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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/28622763">Hang the DJ</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlilypad/pseuds/lavenderlilypad'>lavenderlilypad</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>One Direction (Band)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - College/University, Awkward Flirting, Developing Relationship, First Kiss, First Time, Football | Soccer, Football | Soccer Player Louis Tomlinson, M/M, Opposites Attract</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-01-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-18 05:55:27</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>85,448</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/28622763</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lavenderlilypad/pseuds/lavenderlilypad</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>“You know what, fuck it,” Harry goes, simply letting everything in his arms fall to the ground with gravity and finally succeeding in getting a proper hand out towards Louis.  The dumbest grin is growing on Louis’ face as he takes his hand and shakes it, now feeling like the handshake has been built up way too much.</p><p>“This was really worth it, huh?” Louis asks, not afraid to admit his laughter is a bit breathy and riddled with a tiny amount of nerves, now hyperaware of the fact that they may have been shaking hands for one second too long.</p><p> </p><p>  <i>Louis (athlete and star student) meets Harry (reckless pot dealer) and they somehow end up liking each other because it's 2021 and that's how the fics usually go.</i></p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>41</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>116</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Breathe in through the nose.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Andddd. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Out through the mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis lets his arms down from where they were above his head, his eyes still blissfully closed as he then lets his feet stand a bit further apart in the grass and prepares to reach down and stretch for the ground.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is pretty standard for a good old day of soccer practice, and now that it’s the first day of a brand new season, he doesn’t plan on changing routine.He’s even properly able to tune out a lot of his teammates’ teasing banter and light roughhousing around him since they’ve been provided some free time, due to Coach Branden being just a tad late.Louis likes to use any extra practice time (or any leisure time, really) to get a good stretch or mindful breathing round in.He’s here on a soccer scholarship, thank you very much.He must keep the limbs fresh.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He lets his eyes open to slits when he’s locking his arms behind one of his thighs in a squat position (it’s something he learned in yoga, it basically stretches you like putty).He’s looking around at the moving bodies of his teammates in their royal blue practice uniforms, some of them jokingly shoving each other, some kicking a football back and forth, some flopped out over the grass enjoying these last moments of rest they’re going to get before Coach Branden gets here.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anyone know where Savannah is?” Louis asks, voice relatively quiet, but a few heads turning in his direction anyway since his gentle voice is something that everyone’s trained to hear by now.“I’m quite in need of one of those fruity energy beverages she likes to bring.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh you didn’t hear?” starts his teammate Zayn, coming over to pat Louis on the shoulder just as he’s standing up in order to prepare to switch to his other leg.“She transferred over the summer.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ eyebrows genuinely tilt just a bit at this, Zayn doing his usual thing of smirking at Louis’ earnest nature.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?I liked her,” Louis replies, frowning a bit but already brushing it off as the ongoingness of life.He gets in position to squat and lock his arms around his other leg.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, she’s probably being the water boy for some other suckish team,” Byron chimes in, making a joke out of stepping in front of Louis and trying to mimic his stretch position, successfully getting some laughs out of the other team members, especially once he fails in balance and falls on his ass in the grass.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuckin’ traitor, is what she is,” comes Niall, the soccer ball he’d been kicking back and forth with James rolling into their area.He picks it up from the ground, prepared to jog back over the grass, but taking a moment to stop and acknowledge Louis, that slow, toothy grin growing on his face.“You’ll probably like the new water boy though.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis moves to stand up, straightening out his jersey as he kicks his feet in the grass, just to check the grip of his cleats. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I mean, if he’s nice, yeah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He feels like he’s missing something however, when Zayn’s nudging his arm with his elbow, the boys scattered near starting to stifle giggles or hide behind quivering lips and sparkling eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis pauses for a moment with a blank face, looking around and repositioning his sports glasses on his face.“What?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s Harry,” Niall continues, less smiley as though he’s confused that Louis hasn’t gotten it yet.“You know, Harry Styles?He’s our new team assistant.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh…” Louis starts, pursing his lips and trying to search his mind for who that might be.“Don’t know who that is, but cool!’He forces a grin that’s something between phony and genuine, because he’s still in the dark a bit about why he’s receiving all these teasing energies.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His teammate Liam is walking up out of nowhere, snatching the soccer ball out of Niall’s hands in passing and ignoring the way the boy drops his mouth open.“They’re just being funny because he’s gay.”He doesn’t really linger around as he moves to kick the soccer ball down the grass, the boy never really having been one to engage in joking gossip, especially as the conscientious and very serious captain of this very here team.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis nods in understanding, now forcing a knowing grin at the finally released giggles and laughters around him.He’s now moving to stretch his right arm over his chest. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, I see.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis came out over the summer.It was no big deal really.Even before he came out these boys were still quite amused with poking fun at him.The coming out just gave them something else to get to teasing about.Louis loves them like brothers, really.That’s why sometimes they can be completely intolerable.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m pretty sure you guys know that just because we’re both like…” Louis pauses, not knowing why he doesn’t want to be so blunt.“Into, like—<em>guys</em>, doesn’t mean we’ll automatically jump into each other’s arms.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, we’re just fucking with you man,” Byron tells him, reaching out and roughing up his shoulder before going over to pass the soccer ball with Liam on the far end of the field.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis only turns slightly narrowed eyes toward Zayn, since <em>he’s</em> always been the somewhat sensible one, who knows this behavior is immature and presumptuous, and should probably be running to Louis’ back up right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t look at me,” Zayn says with a hand up.“I’m one of the few people here who <em>doesn’t </em>know the bloke.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You guys are too different anyway,” Niall adds, coming over to rest an elbow on Zayn’s shoulder and hang off of him like a sweaty towel.“It’d be really interesting to see though.Harry’s an animal.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With that, Louis simply nods with a short lived raise of his eyebrows, wiping his hands off on each other.“Good to know,” he responds, before planting a tiny grin on his face upon seeing Coach Branden walking through the entrance fence in the distance.“Now I don’t know about <em>you</em> guys, but I’m ready to have an <em>awesomely </em>productive first day of practice!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So an awesomely productive first day of practice is exactly what ensues. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Or at least that’s what it feels like for the first ten minutes, the new freshmen members of the team trailing in behind Coach Branden and all of them spending a considerable amount of time introducing themselves and getting familiar with names and trying not to become sidetracked (“James, we don’t <em>care</em> how long you can bounce the ball on your thighs”).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They do team stretches together while most of this goes down, the Coach informing them of how this season will play out, the changes made in the seasonal calendar, reiterating that Liam is captain and Zayn and Louis are his co-captains, and overall getting Louis right into the comfortable spirit of soccer season and having all of his sporty pals around him again for another surely successful time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis had even forgotten about this “Harry” who was supposed to be their new “water boy” (it’s really team assistant, with all the duties they have) until he’s sliding himself in past the entrance fence pretty far in the distance, as though trying not to be seen or heard as he holds a duffle bag across his chest, rolls a cooler behind himself, and walks quietly towards the bench on the edge of the field.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi Harry,” is what Coach Branden is saying without even turning around to look at the boy, just a smidge of exhaustion in his tone.A good portion of the teammates are turning their heads from where everyone’s on the grass with their legs spread apart, stretching out their hamstrings, the air being scattered with “Harry!What’s up!Oh my god, it’s Styles!You showed up, congrats!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry only responds with a very blatant middle finger at the last comment, although when Coach Branden turns around to look at him, he switches instantaneously into something more polite and smiling, simply waving from afar and going to take the team assistant’s usual seat on the bench, out of the way of the players during practice.He also makes sure to mouth one last “sorry I’m late” to Coach even from how far he sits, Coach Branden seemingly having been looking at him with tired eyes, awaiting some sort of explanation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Eventually, Coach goes back to turning to them and explaining the goals of this season to the team while Liam calls out the different stretches, and everything continues to be smooth sailing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When they get a break after their first set of training excercises is when Coach is formerly introducing Harry to everyone, calling the boy over, placing a firm hand on his shoulder, and saying he’s the new face that, with a portion of the team budget, will be handling all of “our busy stuff, miscellaneous team needs, laundry, snacks, and whatever else Savannah used to do”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can only hope I do half as good as she did,” Harry replies amidst the quiet laughter of the teammates.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You and I both know you have to if you wanna keep this gig,” Coach tells him, an air of seriousness to his tone that honestly throws Louis just a little, but Harry doesn’t seem to care as he simply shrugs and advances forth to clasp the awaiting hand of Niall. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This eventually results in the more informal gathering of those who know Harry, and call him “Styles”, leaving Coach Branden to roll his eyes and let them know they have fifteen minutes before practice continues.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s quite caught up in this little group he’s got around him right now, many of the other players dispersed and reaching into the cooler for drinks and freshmen looking up at the sky because they don’t really know anybody, so Louis makes use of himself by going over to the cooler too, just to see if by chance Harry is similar to Savannah in any sense and might’ve brought some groovy sports drinks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s a little disappointed after jogging over to find that it’s only water—and <em>spring </em>water at that, but he figures it’s alright, and after all may just be the universe telling him to lay off the fruity stuff.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ tipping his chin back and taking the water down in tiny gulps, very aware of the speed and volume at which he should drink in order to avoid those pesky water cramps.Somewhere in the distance he can hear Harry seeming to be making the rounds after finally having gotten done being pushed around from the boys who (clearly) already knew him well, the boy moving to the more stranger ones and giving them a more personal introduction. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ twisting the cap on his bottle as he stands quite far from it all, watching Harry do the pretty unnecessary, yet refreshingly thoughtful thing of introducing himself individually to the team. He gets deterred just a little when Coach is walking up to him with about two binders and a one-inch thick manual in his hands, stuffing them in Harry’s arms and muttering something in his ear.Louis already knows they’re the standard code-of-conduct stuff for sports teams on campus, along with scheduling stuff, document organization, all the technical items that come with being a part of the team.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Harry’s not much discouraged as he’s making a move toward the bench he’d been at before, which is quite near to where Louis stands by the open cooler.Louis doesn’t know why, but now he’s suddenly very aware that he’s the only one who hasn’t received a personal introduction from Harry.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he would’ve thought he just wasn’t getting one which is no big deal, except right now as the boy is walking up, his feet are slowing hesitantly upon noticing that Louis’ there.It’s as though he hadn’t even remembered the boy’s existence until now, and for some reason, it’s caused him to be hit with light like a deer in the nighttime.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis also doesn’t know why he suddenly can’t hear himself breathing.They’re just seeing each other, and for some reason, it’s turning into an entire moment that doesn’t make any sense.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, um,” Harry begins, clearing his throat as he adjusts the pile in his arms and takes the few steps in order to be properly in front of Louis.His messy hair of curls flows harmoniously in the best way it can while being somewhat tamed behind a haphazard headscarf, the boy’s cardigan large and draping off of him like a blanket, and his sweatpants a similar navy blue in color and just as draping.He looks extremely comfortable, like he might live in the clouds, or something.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I figure since I’ve said hi to everyone, naturally I’ll do the same with you,” the boy says, his wide eyes providing Louis the sight of their greenish color. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, makes sense,” Louis jokes, a twitching raise of his eyebrows as he plays with his knuckles in front of himself.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m Harry, in case you haven’t already picked up on that,” he’s beginning, before appearing to be extending a hand out to Louis—except the removal of one of his hands almost causes everything in his arms to fall, bringing him to quickly reach for everything and scoop it up to his chest, all while Louis’ stood there with fingers that are starting to reach out, giving into his innate desire to offer help.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It seems you’ve—“ Louis begins, reaching out concerned hands, just in case the boy’s items may go tumbling down.“Well, looks like you’ve got it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah—I—“ Harry begins, stifling through a chortle that definitely has a hint of nervousness behind it as he finally balances the items out enough to get a hand extended, palm outreached and waiting for Louis—before one of the binders drops down into the grass and several of the papers inside of it go scattering around.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know what, fuck it,” Harry goes, simply letting everything in his arms fall to the ground with gravity and finally succeeding in getting a proper hand out towards Louis.The dumbest grin is growing on Louis’ face as he takes his hand and shakes it, now feeling like the handshake has been built up way too much.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This was really worth it, huh?” Louis asks, not afraid to admit his laughter is a bit breathy and riddled with a tiny amount of nerves, now hyperaware of the fact that they may have been shaking hands for one second too long.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hand shaking’s actually a really vital part of first impressions,” Harry responds, Louis now <em>sure </em>their hands have been attached too long and retracting his, bringing it to the back of his own head in order to toy with his hair and keep his hands busy.He genuinely has no idea why he’s acting like this.Did Harry put something in the water bottles?Has Louis already discovered he’s shady enough to do something like that and he hasn’t even known him for an hour?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I um…” Louis begins, fingers still playing in his hair as Harry’s now stood there, hands clasped in front of himself as though expectant, waiting for something interesting to be said.“I hope I’ve made a good one, then.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s nodding his head, his lips curving in a grin and revealing the dimples on either side of his cheeks, although Louis has no idea what he’s just said to make him smile like this.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Totally,” is how he responds, still nodding pleasantly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then there’s a pause, one where they literally don’t know each other at all, yet have both stumbled through a simple introduction like a couple of toddlers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I guess I should help you get these up,” Louis suddenly pipes up, crouching down in order to gather up the papers and open manuals and binders.“Since you dropped them, and all.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh yeah,” Harry replies, getting down right along with him and sliding papers that Louis passes him into the binder sleeves, and even though Louis plays it off as though he doesn’t see it, the boy definitely visibly cringes at himself.“It felt like a good idea at the time.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re both rising to their feet again as Louis’ handing him one of the binders, his brows furrowing although his lips nicely curved.“That time being, like a minute ago?”His shoulders shake just a bit with his chortle, and he can half hear Liam in the distance yelling at him to come over so they can discuss captain duties.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“For someone I just met, I honestly was <em>not </em>expecting the quips to come this soon,” Harry responds, stacking up everything in his arms again as Louis’ beckoned into more comfortable laughter.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My bad, my bad,” Louis replies, hands to his chest and not knowing why his lips just want to <em>smile </em>so bad, like <em>stop</em>.Literally nothing is <em>that </em>funny right now.“You get a free pass to quip at me.Take your shot.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry nods once, his grin shrinking just a bit as he seems to really think about it, almost as though he hadn’t been expecting Louis to give him permission to make fun of him.His pinkish lips are even parted just a bit, their eye contact a bit too unwavering, bringing the curly haired boy to move is gaze down to Louis’ chest, particularly upon the giant “7” on his practice jersey.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your glasses are pretty square,” Harry comments, the crookedness of his grin growing before he’s even finished, bringing Louis to curve his mouth right back, hands going to his hips.“And kind of nerdy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I’m blind as a bat,” Louis replies, adjusting them at his nose bridge with one hand.“Needing to see is nerdy, huh?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I mean,” Harry starts, shrugging cheekily and Louis just barely noticing his tired, straining arms.“Seeing is overrated.I’ve been able to do it all my life, and I don’t really get the hype.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Looks like you need to check your privilege then, mister,” Louis tells him, now definitely noticing Liam waving wildly at him from afar exasperatedly, as though he can’t possibly understand why Louis is ignoring him right now.And honestly Louis can’t either.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I didn’t mean to—“ by Harry is uttered at the same time as Louis’ saying, “Look, I’ve gotta go”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis had been in the midst of side stepping the boy and beginning towards Liam, but he makes a bit of a spin back towards the boy, Harry having rotated to meet him as they’ve switched sides.“Hm?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I was just—“ Harry begins, shaking his head.“Just trying to explain myself, let you know I wasn’t trying to be a dick with the glasses thing.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good, because I was joking,” Louis responds, his eyebrows raising, foot positioned behind him in preparation to back away and meet Liam where he’s waiting impatiently.“God, you don’t think I have the humor capacity of Mark Zuckerberg, do you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This gets a genuine chuckle out of Harry, although its stifled into the items that he carries, the boy briefly mumble repeating “Mark Zuckerberg”.Louis just grins at the spectacle and enjoys this warm little moment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then there’s another instant of that quiet little smiling nothingness that they’ve got going on, Louis’ happy lips closing expectantly.It’s as though they both don’t want this exchange to end, but there’s literally nothing else to keep it going since they literally don’t know each other.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis points a thumb over his left shoulder.“I’m gonna walk over here now,” he begins, the blank look back on Harry’s face as he immediately nods in understanding.“Get back to my team and all that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, they need you,” Harry tells him as Louis’ backing up on his feet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis doesn’t even know how to respond besides shooting finger guns at the boy before turning on his feet, an immediate rough hand of stress going through his hair because that was a fucking disaster.A disaster that he didn’t even see coming.A disaster that didn’t even make <em>sense</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Louis mustn’t dwell on it anyhow, because he has a practice to get to, and new game plans to discuss with Zayn and Liam, and captain-ly duties to live up to and all that.Definitely can’t think about the team water boy who he didn’t even know before today.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As they’re practicing penalty kicks after having run their mile laps, done some more training exercises, and participated in some ice breakers over practicing their passing techniques, Louis figures that as he waits for each player to take their kick, it wouldn’t <em>hurt </em>to just take a peek at Harry where he’s been pretty quiet so many feet away.And there he is, just sitting quite politely and watching, everything he’d brought and been bombarded with by Coach Branden just piled around him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Of course this is probably the result of Coach Branden having threatened to put a muzzle on the boy after Harry’d started out making snide, yet charmingly humorous remarks (“Niall have you always ran like that?Like a duck with a sprained leg?”“You should definitely bend over and touch your toes more often, Garrell” “Zayn, is it? Your foot’s supposed to <em>connect </em>with the ball”).He hadn’t been loud or anything, far from annoying, even though Louis can admit that on anyone else he’d probably be just a bit vexed by it.But it’s…different.Because he was only met with amused smiles behind middle fingers, and the joking yell of being told to shut up.It even felt like it was adding a much more refreshing feel to today’s practice—a distraction from the stoic seriousness the mixture of Coach Branden and captain Liam Payne quite often bring to these practices.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Since Louis had turned his head to look at the boy, and Harry had obviously already been watching the team, the boy is quite fast in giving him the tiniest of a polite grin, simply in the way any human acknowledges another when they stumble upon eye contact with each other.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Louis doesn’t even know why, but he simply just goes back to looking at James where he’s positioning himself in front of the ball and planning out his kick, instead of grinning back at him, or anything of the sort.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Stupid, stupid.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ready to fucking crush it this season!?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The question cuts loudly and festively in the midst of Louis’ and Niall’s walk across campus and towards one of the food trucks, Louis looking up ahead of him now instead of at the blond boy’s sunlit face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you fucking kidding?Of course we are!” Niall responds, as always instantly matching the energy of whoever he’s talking to and raising a hand to clasp Jim’s (the guy who’s always been enthusiastic about the school’s sports teams, Louis thinks he took a biology class with him once).“Cannot <em>wait </em>to clean the mud with those smug fucking Wildebeests first, ain’t that right Tommo?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ getting a rough shake of the shoulder by Jim now as he responds with a growing grin.“Beating them would be ideal, yeah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’ve gotta be <em>way </em>more pumped than that,” Jim is scolding him, continuing on his intended way past them as he walks backwards, now pointing energetic arms at them.“See you sons of bitches on the field!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis <em>is </em>pumped.Just because he’s not doing what Niall’s currently doing as they continue their journey—hopping on the balls of his feet and for the hundredth time iterating that “I’m so fucking <em>ready, </em>man”—doesn’t mean Louis isn’t just as excited.As a member of the team (a really <em>good</em> member, a lot would say, but Louis tries to stay humble), he’s gotten bombarded pretty much every few minutes with this enthusiasm, so he’s very used to it today.He’s just ready to start the actual first match and then his adrenaline will <em>really</em> set in.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Niall love, don’t explode your head off before our first match with all of this energy,” Louis tells the boy, patting him right on top of his hair as they’re stepping over to the greek food truck window.He immediately gives Alec his kind eyes and greetings and goes ahead and orders the salad for himself and the sandwich meal for Niall.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know what I wish, though?” Niall continues, as though barely acknowledging what Louis’ saying, pressing his side against the truck and crossing his arms as Louis’ giving Alec his cash.“That doing this soccer shit didn’t have to come with all of the <em>school </em>bullshit right down the middle of it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis hides a tiny grin behind his lips as they’re stepping off to the side in order to wait for their food (<em>after</em> being wished luck on their upcoming season by Alec), zipping open his shoulder book bag in order to slide his change into one of the interior pockets. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s kinda what being an athlete at a <em>school </em>means.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s the problem,” the boy responds with a sigh, throwing his head back.“We can’t all be teacher’s pets like you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, we can’t, can we?” Louis replies smugly, fully knowing Niall didn’t think he was going to take offense to that.Louis likes learning, and maintains straight A’s.It’s nothing he’s ashamed of. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis turns a bit thoughtful as he leans his back against the truck, staring up at the almost fake looking blue and cloudy sky as the buzzing sounds of campus students sound muted outside of him and Niall.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m so on top of everything with school, soccer, gardening, that I kinda wanna, like, add something else to my schedule.So I won’t be bored.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Niall’s poking him in the shoulder with his response.“I think that’s why people date.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, but—“ Louis starts, eyebrows furrowing with more thought as he adjusts his glasses on his face.“Am I really ready for that?For finding someone, and then trying to get us to ‘click’ somehow—it just seems like so much work,” he continues, using air quotes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s an easy silence, Niall probably thinking about it too, since Louis is a pretty precise and well thought-out person when it comes to embarking upon <em>anything, </em>which is why he’s been a single man all his life now.The whole practice of it just never really <em>interested </em>him.He doesn’t believe in being in relationships just to be in them.His life has to be together and the person actually has to be worthwhile in several ways if they’re going to enter his daily schedule.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You could try Harry,” Niall’s saying easily, shrugging one shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis turns his eyes to Niall, a sort of bored pointedness to the look on his face.“Water boy Harry?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Niall replies, a side of his lips curving upward.“Stop acting like it’s so ridiculous.I saw you talking to him at practice.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He talked to everybody,” Louis responds matter-of-factly, before walking up with the boy alongside him in order to get their order that was just called from the window.“Besides…”. Louis begins, shrugging his shoulders without grace and sort of fumbling his thoughts a bit, especially since Niall is giving him his thoughtful attention as they walk towards where they’re going to eat with the rest of the soccer boys who are doing lunch right now, in their usual spot in the Tiger courtyard.“He’s not my type.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Niall’s laugh is fully expected, the boy doing his signature move of throwing his head back. “And what exactly <em>is</em> your type, mister bachelor?”His smiley, laughing nature dies down just a bit within a second, Louis looking at him with a blank face.“Wait—yeah, what <em>is</em> your type though, seriously.Ever since you came out I’d kinda been curious.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis simply hopes there’s no amount of blush showing on his face as he runs his fingers through his hair and looks at his shoes, half because Niall is showing genuine interest in his romantic life and half because he literally doesn’t have an actual answer to that.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know,” Louis begins, raising his shoulders and gesturing uselessly with his hands.“Maybe lanky…but built?Um—like…” Louis scratches at the back of his head, now really wondering why he’d never thought of his type before.“Someone who can have a good laugh is always fun.I also like gingers.They’re cute.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s enough silence as they walk for Louis to look beside him at the mute boy, only to find the complete look of “not buying this” that’s plastered all over his face with his low brows and expression of judgement.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know!” Louis replies, rubbing a palm down his face.“Stop looking at me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis is closing the fence to the soccer field behind himself, practice bag weighing down his right shoulder as he’s already donned in his secondary practice clothes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s finished his classes for the day, met with his teachers during office hours for any potential extra credit, had a fulfilling time of lunch with his friends and their friends who are now his friends, and now all he wants to do is his evening meditation before the second half of his day where he has practice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He always comes an hour before practice just so he has the whole field to himself, and the pleasure of being alone in such a wide, grassy area already has him taking in soothing breaths as he starts upon the grass—</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then there’s Harry.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s on the same bench he was sat in for a majority of their last practice, and he has his legs up on the surface and crossed underneath him as he seems to be writing something down in a textbook.The binders and journals and sports bag and backpack and cooler are surrounding him, although the boy and his huge green eyes stand out amongst everything.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wow, you’re super early,” is all Louis can think to say once they’re seeing each other, Louis almost having been headed right past him before noticing him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry nods once, his right dimple barely making a short appearance.“You’re one to talk.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh yeah, I’m—“ Louis starts, instantly understanding that he is, in fact, guilty of the same thing as he gestures awkwardly at himself.“Caught red handed.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s letting out a slow building, sort of low and breathy laugh, before gesturing at the book he’s holding as Louis just shuts his mouth and mentally tries to glue his lips together so he won’t say anything ever again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I actually have sort of this long, but not-long-<em>enough-</em>to-go-home gap between my last art class and this practice, so I figured I’d use the time to get some studying in,” Harry starts, pursing his lips and nodding after he’s explained himself, Louis nodding right along.“Instead of like, lollygagging, or whatever.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Lollygagging.What an eccentric word,” Louis replies jokingly, raising one eyebrow and already prepared for the way Harry’s laughter fills the silent air. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis is stepping forth just a bit to take a look at what Harry’s been writing.He doesn’t know why it instantly gets something to settle in his chest, as though he was tense and now he isn't, when he sees that the boy and his positioned pen were in the midst of doodling space ships and UFOs over a paragraph about the Renaissance period of art.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Those doodles of aliens and flying saucers really open up the academic mind,” Louis tells him, not knowing if he’s just reading into things when he thinks a very faint scarlet brushes upon Harry’s cheeks as Louis takes a step back.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Now I look like an idiot, probably,” Harry says, pressing his lips into a line and releasing a defeated breath as he slowly lets his book close, although there’s still a finger planted between the pages for bookmarking.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I probably look like a weirdo for coming in early with no apparent reason, so I guess we’re even,” Louis tells him, joining his fingers together down in front of himself and allowing himself the single huff of laughter in response to the appearance of both of Harry’s dimples.“Although I <em>do</em> have a reason though.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And what’s that?” Harry asks, his voice strangely quieter, sort of calming Louis in this strange way and also bringing him to realize how quietly serene everything is, as only a few birds chirp in the background.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis parts his lips a bit before he answers, just because he’s now being self conscious about what he quite literally has done before <em>every </em>practice before this random boy waltzed onto the scene.So it doesn’t make any <em>sense</em> that he’s even hesitating.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I meditate,” Louis tells him casually, nodding and receiving the same nod back from Harry.“I actually, uh…”—he pauses to realize he’s stretching out his sleeves with his fingers, proceeding to stop—“come early everyday to practice to do it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He brings his lips closed and barely curving after explaining himself, Harry’s eyes seeming to be growing in size as they share this quiet, outside moment, and then, within a second or two, Harry’s lips are moving towards a lopsided grin, the sight of it giving Louis this sense of warmth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That is, until he stops being a soft idiot for long enough to understand that Harry’s giggling, which—why is Harry laughing?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry seems to pick up on the fact that he’s laughing while Louis’ not laughing, especially since Louis’ brows are knit in sort of a nicely confused way as he lets out one short hum of question.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, you’re serious,” Harry’s suddenly saying, the smirk wiped off of his face. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah…” Louis replies, nodding way too much now and running his fingers along the temple of his glasses.“I…yeah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry nods in understanding, his lips pursing in some kind of “too each their own” fashion, before he’s tapping on his textbook some more and there’s that same little moment of sweet nothingness between them.Louis doesn’t even know why he continuously doesn’t use these moments to end whatever pointless conversation is going on and go do something else.Even further, he has no idea why <em>Harry </em>doesn’t.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I—“ Louis begins, using a wide arm to gesture toward the vast field behind them, only briefly looking over his shoulder as though it may not be there.“I just sit right in the middle of the field right there.Makes me feel like I’m at the center of the world, even though I’m not.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Some pretty powerful stuff, that seems like.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, it’s really therapeutic.The whole team knows I do it, and usually if they come in a bit early, they just kinda quietly sit off to the side,” Louis responds, closing his mouth in a grin and now deciding that this will literally never end if he doesn’t end it himself.He moves to point over his shoulder, although he speaks at the exact same time as Harry does.“I’m gonna—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So how did you—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Huh?No, you go on.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s those little breaths of nervousness as Harry lets one leg down from underneath him, his gray converse shoe settled in the grass.“I was just asking how you got into soccer in the first place.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s a pretty dumb story.One that’s like…” Louis begins, shaking his head and somewhat mumbling.“Pointless.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, obviously, since I’m just sitting here drawing nonsense, I’ve got time.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis definitely tries to keep the grin off of his face as best he can as he adjusts his practice bag on his shoulder (which is growing sore by the second). </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, um.When I was little, I remember always wanting more space—like, during recess, or in free time and stuff, to just like run around, play catch with my friends, do races.I hated playgrounds because I felt like they were too small, and so when I…” He takes a moment to swallow, just because he’s trying not to be hyperaware of how much he’s talking right now.“Discovered a field like this one.It seemed like the world’s biggest playground to me.I wanted access to it, to play in it like I saw all those older kids doing.And my mom—being the dear that she is, always wanted me to <em>be </em>something—told me that the only way to do that is to take up a sport that occurs on one.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s just a bit sidetracked by how earnestly he’s kept Harry’s attention throughout that entire monologue, but he tries not to show it as he lets out a little hum and rubs one of his hands up the sleeve of his opposite arm.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So all this started because a miniature Louis wanted a bigger playground,” Harry says declaratively, his right dimple deepening, before he gestures in front of himself towards the boy.“And now he’s here, big leagues and all.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yea, can’t believe my kiddish dreams resulted in a soccer scholarship,” Louis replies with a gentle chuckle.“So how about you?How did you get into…this?Getting all tangled up with us?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, um—“ Harry replies, sitting up straighter and switching demeanor a bit as he rubs at his nose lightly.“I just uh, needed something to do.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis nods along in attention, not really thinking the boy is finished speaking, because after all, he’s barely said anything.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like, just a bit of a gig that I needed,” Harry continues with a shrug, mumbling more and more with every word.“Ordered by the dean, and whatnot.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis can’t help the way his eyebrows raise in height just a bit.“The dean?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All Harry does is nod, although his eyes are less on Louis’ eyes and more right upon his nose, which brings Louis to figure that he shouldn’t pry.He won’t push this boy to his limits just because he’s nosy.Or wants to know more about him.Or just wants to talk to him endlessly for no apparent reason.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So I think I’m gonna go take my place in the middle now,” Louis says with a smile as he’s gesturing towards the field behind him and already stepping back on his feet. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah.To meditate,” Harry says, and even though there’s no inflection in his tone, Louis can’t help but read into it as he’s saluting at the boy and moving to turn around, with every step of his feet, hearing the intrusive question of <em>does he think I’m weird? </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And before he can even think about it, his feet are turning around, and he’s walking back up to Harry with his fingers twiddling with each other near his chest.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please don’t think I’m weird,” Louis says with a slightly twisted face, the light desperate tone pretty evident in his voice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry looks genuinely confused as he’d been in the midst of opening back up his book, bringing Louis to run a hand through his hair and tug at the strands discreetly in order to let out his frustration at being dysfunctional.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I wasn’t…I didn’t plan to pass any judgement,” Harry tells him, his face thoroughly blank as he blinks.“Was just gonna mind my business.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis nods, lips parting before any actual sound comes out, because he literally doesn’t know how to keep up with his own clumsy social interaction technique.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” is what he settles on, before turning around again, this time <em>intent </em>to not bother Harry with his aloof demeanor ever again.At least for the rest of today.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can I join?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The most innocent look of faint surprise grows in Louis’ eyes as he’s pausing, several feet between him and Harry now as he looks back toward the boy, in his fuzzy white huge jumper and contradictory plaid pants, cream colored hair scarf to match.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well come on over then, sir,” Louis tells him, just a bit too animatedly as he grows a sincere grin, gesturing at the boy with a beckoning “c’mon” motion of his hand.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And so Harry does, sets his book aside and is soon walking right alongside Louis and toward the center of it all, where they will meditate together.Yes, that is what they are going to do.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They end up sat Indian style with crossed legs in the grass, Louis’ bag off to the side where he’d gotten the pillow he usually sits on (unfortunately he hadn’t come prepared with two for the boy, but he definitely offers it to him first) and the single candle out of it that now burns and supplies them with the scent of lavender vanilla greatness.There’s a few feet between them, but they’re definitely facing each other, and Louis tries not to sink too much into the sight of Harry perfectly in front of him, those long, never-ending legs of his somehow crossed and managing to tuck underneath him, the wind tousling his sunlight-framed hair, the empty stands far behind him as though he’s the main act in some sort of show that hasn’t started yet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Jesus, maybe Louis should meditate now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis has already explained to him the basics and goals of meditating, the way it’s supposed to get one in tune with their surroundings and mindful of their thoughts, and all that jazz about how it’s not actually necessary that one “clears their mind” as much as it’s necessary that they acknowledge their thoughts.Louis usually goes for about fifty minutes, but with all the words they’d shared before this, he set the time to thirty minutes, which is probably good since Harry’s a first timer.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And so they just sit, Louis starts the timer on his phone, and they close their eyes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And this feels great, it really does.Louis’ able to go smoothly into the transition of mindfulness just as well as he does every other day.No reason for him to be more distracted than usual, because all that would mean is that he’s not as good at meditating as he’d thought, and is easily thrown by minuscule changes.Or presences.Which he is not.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Breathe in.Breathe out.Breathe in.Breathe out.God, my breaths are really loud.And that’s okay, because I’m human.Breathe in.Wait, can he hear me?Can he hear my breaths?I’m thinking about something that’s irrelevant right now.Breathe in.Breathe out.Breathe—oh my god, I can hear his breathing.It’s really soft.Holy Jesus what if he’s looking at me right now.What if my eyes are closed and his are open and he’s just staring at me.Fuck, now I wanna open mine.But if he’s looking at me then we’ll just be staring at each other and I will have no choice but to burst into flames.So I can’t open my eyes. Ever.Ever. Ever.But I sorta wanna know what he looks like meditating.See if he’s really in his element.Hold on—no, we’re not doing that.You guys could both end up staring at each other, remember?</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis lets his eyes open, giving into the overbearing curiosity and finding something he didn’t expect entirely.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s eyes are nicely closed, he’s sitting peacefully straight with calm hands on his thighs, and he’s just…meditating. Better than Louis, obviously.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis doesn’t let himself dwell on the aesthetic of Harry so serene and silent ahead of him in the healthy green grass for even a <em>second </em>before closing his eyes again, feeling sort of shitty that he’d even opened them when they were <em>both </em>supposed to be meditating.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis can admit, he never levels his mind, but somehow, the never-ending thoughts bring the thirty minutes to fly by quite quickly, and before he knows it, the alarm is going off and he’s opening his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s always a sign of a good meditation session when it takes one a few seconds to open their eyes, which is what Louis observes from Harry as he sits across from him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s like he blinks back to life, his eyes nowhere near their regular giganticness as his breaths are steady and he’s letting out a quiet “wow”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Holy shit.I actually feel so chill right now it’s crazy,” he says, his voice low and mellowed, not daring to break the moment even a little.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yep, that’s what it does to you,” Louis replies, grinning bittersweetly, kind of wishing he’d been as devoted to it today as Harry, although the sight of Harry actually being affected into tranquility is really exciting to see.Louis <em>keeps </em>telling his teammates they should try it—it works for <em>everyone</em>.“Just sorta makes all your cares float away for a bit.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No kidding,” Harry replies, still in the same crossed leg position as he’s looking beyond Louis’ shoulder a bit, Louis not even having to look behind himself to know some of the teammates are probably strolling in through the fence, right on time.“Like, I don’t even care that they’re over there making faces at me, probably calling me all sorts of gay right now.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis raises one eyebrow just a smidge, not even knowing why the words give him a reaction that’s mixed with something along the lines of confusion and maybe even mild offense.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry catches himself quickly, bringing his eyes and attention right back to Louis in front of him as he gestures uselessly with his hands.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Not </em>that I like—like I think shit like yoga, or-or <em>meditation, </em>is <em>gay</em>, or anything,” Harry begins with a clumsy stammer, using air quotes around the word of the hour.“Like…I know that it’s a sexuality and has <em>nothing </em>to do—or that, you can’t attribute it to just any random thing that’s deemed not <em>manly</em>, but um.I like to make jokes.”His voice definitely does a bit of a crack at the “jokes”, the boy pretty much fumbling through every single thing that’s coming out of his mouth as Louis sits there and doesn’t say anything (and also tries not to burst out laughing).“Especially jokes <em>I’m </em>allowed to make, because, you know…” Harry begins, coughing into his fist briefly, proceeding to beat on his chest once or twice to clear whatever’s come about in his throat.His voice is pretty much weakened with the lungs that are abandoning him now, a useless hand gestured toward Louis.“I <em>am</em>, I’m pretty sure you’ve—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Styles!”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s a booming holler of his name from the only boy on the team who could even make that sort of volume—Richardson, and once he’s gotten Harry’s far away attention, there’s something still loud, yet more inaudible being spoken at him.The words are along the lines of something that the boy needs to get from Harry, or something.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m gonna go,” is what Harry’s saying pretty quickly, pushing himself up out of the grass and simply offering a tiny wave to Louis on his departure. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although Louis has still yet to say anything, he turns his chin over his shoulder to watch the boy, on his entire graceless jog up to the boys where he’s met with the usual frat boyish greetings and messing up of his hair, before Harry’s moving towards one of his duffle bags for whatever Richardson had wanted, about three other boys on the team huddled near him as they seem to be talking about some bogus pop quiz.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis decides he can’t think too much about anything that has happened in the past hour.There’s no reason to.He’s just going to put up his candle and round pillow, stuff it back in his bag, push himself up off of this heavenly grass, and start upon a productive second practice of the season.Especially since, as Coach Branden’s coming in on <em>time</em>, things are seeming to get started right off the bat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A productive practice is exactly what ensues, Louis much more down to business than ever, probably because he didn’t get the sweet release of a fulfilling meditation in order to sedate him a bit.He even gets quite a snippy “okay, Dad” from one of the freshmen after he’s criticizing his blocking technique pretty harshly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s been on the bench of course, Coach having given him the task of taking note of the different shoe and shirt and pant sizes of the freshmen in order to get them the secondary practice warm-ups that everyone else has, as well as keep track of time during their mock match.He seems to be very diligent, not even able to grant a tiny polite grin Louis’ way when Louis looks over at him for no particular reason.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis had just been getting up from one of the picnic tables in the student park, gathering two heaping bags of fertilizer, a grocery bag of flower seeds in his arms, and a huge pair of rubber gloves, when he’d heard the familiar voice that only belonged to one guy in his peripheral, the person almost having walked by him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis has everything in his arms now as he turns toward him, hoisting the bags up with a bit of a grunt and only allowing himself a second to take in the dark blue of Harry’s oversized, distressed jean jacket.His scarf doesn’t match his outfit today though.Louis actually thinks it’s the same cream colored one from the other day.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god,” Louis tells him, walking up to the boy, his shoulder book bag threatening to slip off.“We actually have existences outside of the soccer field.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s amused smile is sincere and childlike, the boy nodding in agreement as he adjusts the strap of his backpack that lays across his chest.“I always thought all the soccer players just exploded into confetti whenever they walked out of the field.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis lets out earnest laughter, although clearly still struggling with the contents of his arms and <em>knowing </em>he should get going.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So what ya got there…” Harry starts, rocking back and forth on his feet a smidge, before changing his mind and seeming to take a step forward, his hands outreached.“Actually, let me just be a thoughtful human being and help you with some of this.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis doesn’t protest—<em>especially </em>when Harry’s taking both of the huge fertilizer bags and leaving Louis with the grocery bag and rubber gloves.Now he can finally adjust his book bag and his sliding glasses.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m actually headed towards the extreme other side of campus,” Louis tells him, just in case he’s not up for carrying it all the way there, even though he’d already gone and let the boy take the bulk of everything from him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not like I have anything planned,” Harry replies with a shrug of his shoulders.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis asks no further questions, just starting on his walk and bringing Harry to stride right next to him, students moving opposite ways of them and bikes ringing their bells and skateboards skidding over cracks as they move past the science building.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Also no words are being said.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Also Louis is late, he knows he’s late, he was literally rushing before this boy and his eyes and his teeth walked upon him.So he doesn’t really know why he’s dallying right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m planting flowers with the gardening club,” Louis speaks up, just so he won’t have another one of those instances where he thinks Harry thinks he’s weird because he’s left things unexplained.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Gardening club?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yup,” Louis replies with a nod.“I’ve been VP for two semesters.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Cool,” Harry responds, small grin placed on his lips as he looks down at the fertilizer in his arms.Louis’ now realizing that Harry walks a thin line between showing what he’s feeling and leaving Louis with absolutely no idea of if the boy even wants to be near him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We plant all kinds of things though, not just flowers.They’re just easier to start the year off with, especially with newbies and all,” Louis continues.“Trees are our main event at the end of the semester, since they’re a pretty big deal.Really just planting anything can make a huge change, because after all, plants <em>are</em> the foundation of all our…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s not saying anything to prompt Louis to lose track of his words, but it’s really the fact that he’s <em>not </em>saying anything, and instead his grin is just stretching, and Louis can <em>see</em> that he’s clearly trying to keep his dimples from popping out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“…and could I <em>be </em>any more of a tree hugger, I know,” Louis laughs just a bit forcedly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, no, it’s interesting,” Harry tells him, Louis having picked up his pace just a bit, bringing Harry to have to follow suit in his quickened feet.“It really displays the duality of man, you know.It’s always great to be into unique stuff.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, and it’s even greater to be on <em>time </em>for the unique stuff, which as of now, I am not,” Louis replies, walking even faster and bringing Harry to part his lips and look between them in a wave of realization.“Is it alright if we put a little more pep in our step?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course,” Harry’s replying, even though once Louis’ <em>really </em>taking off he’s just barely keeping up, Louis properly power walking through everything and sufficiently causing any passing people to make double takes at them as though there’s a meteor that they must’ve not noticed was coming and they’re not sure if they should be rushing too.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is…” Harry begins through slightly panted breaths, Louis’ eyes nowhere but right ahead of him as he’s trotting up the stairs towards the student greenway.“More of a workout than I’ve done in years.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis simply offers a barely-there hum of amusement over his shoulder as he’s spotting the gardening club in the distance, seeming to have been waiting on him in their straw hats and sunglasses and sitting in the grass near the beds of dirt.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He offers his pleasantries about running a little late, but he’s not reprimanded by anybody since they quite like him here, instead Rosalie being the club member who calls everyone over to relieve him and Harry of the items in their arms, telling Louis their ideas about what certain flowers they’d thought would look best in specific areas.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We could actually use some more hands…?” Rosalie’s saying, her giant hat casting a shadow over the top half of her face, and her dark brown hair nicely upon her shoulders as she gestures at Harry, who had just been standing politely with his hands behind his back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ eyebrows quirk up as he looks toward the boy, knowing that making him participate in all this would probably be more than an imposition.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You—you want me to help with the dirt…and stuff?” Harry answers after a while, looking between Louis and Rosalie and the other club members who are now nodding enthusiastically.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis quickly shakes his head, waving the boy off as he moves in order to crouch down and get one of the fertilizer bags open.“He doesn’t want to, it’s all good.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, no I can,” Harry’s quickly insisting, the grin being heard in his voice and seen on his face once Louis’ turning his chin up in order to look at him again.“Just tell me where I need to be.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Louis doesn’t know if Harry’s just trying to be polite or if he’s genuinely interested in the messiness of planting flowers right now, but either way, he’s whisked away by Jonathan and Amy where they’re going to plant sunflowers near the benches and provide him with some gloves, and Louis’ left with a strange sensation in his chest.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s a while before he and Harry are even in the same vicinity again, Louis having been in the midst of patting down the soil upon the Tiger Lilly seeds and growing excited for how beautiful and voluptuous they will grow in due time.He’s simply approached with the shadow of the boy, bringing one of the almost empty bags of fertilizer, along with two bottles of water, one of which he extends to Louis.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They wanted me to come over here and help with these,” Harry’s telling him, getting down on his knees upon the dirt right by Louis (and <em>god</em>, the boy is wearing jeans today, and definitely did <em>not </em>have to go out of his way to be helpful). </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By now, Louis’ been told in secret by some other club members that Harry’s pretty slow moving and unhelpful in many aspects, and Louis figures that maybe they’ve even sent him here to do away with him, but Louis honestly doesn’t care to inform him of that or even talk anymore about flowers now that the boy’s just in <em>front </em>of him again and he’s got a faint dirt mark on his forehead.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Awesome,” Louis replies, patting the dirt some more with his gloved hands (probably too much by now) as they hold a second of eye contact.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So they proceed on doing exactly that, Louis simply explaining to him what he’s doing and neither of them talking about much else besides directions and flowers and the occasional comment on how Jonathan is taking this way too seriously.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then Louis’ phone is going off in his pocket and he <em>instantly </em>remembers this wasn’t the last thing he had to do today before practice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Holy shit,” Louis’ saying, instantly ripping one glove off and pulling his phone out of his pocket in order to shut it off.“I have a meeting with one of my professors for a recommendation in like, ten minutes.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s mouth is opening just a bit dumbfoundedly, even as Louis’ rising to his feet and wiping his forehead of sweat.“Oh…that’s—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis, you leaving us already?” comes the voice of Rosalie, Amy by her side as they’re walking up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I’ve gotta thing with a professor,” Louis replies with a solemn nod of his head, before remembering Harry down below him who is still appearing to be at a loss for both expression and what exactly he’s supposed to do now.“Well, um…Harry you can—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Go on, we’ll take care of him,” Amy’s saying, patting a friendly hand on Louis’ shoulder.“That is, if he wants to stay and help us better the campus community, of course.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And now Louis feels like this is way past an imposition, especially because he <em>knows </em>Harry was probably only doing this to be polite.There are literally two hours between now and their soccer practice, and Louis’ pretty sure the boy doesn’t want to spend it messing around in the dirt.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure,” Harry replies after much too long, a tight lipped grin placed upon his mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For a split second, Louis wants to crouch back down and kiss him right on the cheek.But then he remembers that’s not something they’re familiar enough with each other to do.Actually, at what point <em>would </em>they be considered familiar with each other?They’ve meditated together, they’ve planted flowers together, for goodness’ sake.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s so cool of you, Harry,” is what Louis settles on saying, not really knowing what to do with his hands, since they want to do something along the lines of patting the boy on the head.He instead stifles this desire by reaching down to scoop up his backpack by the strap.“See you on the field?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Harry turns his eyes toward Louis and his retreating figure, his grin is much more real this time around, his head nodding once.“On the edge of the field, actually.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis genuinely lets out a chuckle with a soft hand to his own stomach, then he's turning around and playing it cool for a few seconds, before power walking towards the campus building that he knows he needs to be booking it towards right about now.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry actually ends up coming late to practice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At first, of course, Louis had thought the boy had just skipped out on having to interact with Louis when he would’ve came in early to meditate.He probably thought that was weird.Probably didn’t want to open the door for them to do it together again, or something.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But no, he actually comes in as the entire team is fifteen minutes into their group stretch, very much disheveled as though he had to gather everything he needed to bring within five minutes, his book bag strap slid down to his elbow as he balances the books and the binders and the extra duffle bags and the rolling cooler in his arms and hands.His entrance actually makes quite a ruckus as Louis had been counting off each stretch position. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s also much more mussed with faint marks of dirt, and lightly sweating like he might’ve jogged here.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Coach had left them for a bit, leaving the captains in charge and tending to more important duties, so it pretty much goes unspoken that it’s allowed when James is yelling him over with a “come stretch with us!”, which is immediately met with casual agreeing where everyone’s spread out spaciously upon the grass.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry comes over <em>after</em> he’s done away with the avalanche of stuff he has, and Louis doesn’t know why that throws him just a bit, because he definitely doesn’t take Harry as someone who partakes in non-mandatory physical activity.But he’s definitely sauntering over, met with some comments on his disheveled appearance, including the standout “were you attacked by squirrels or something?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Switch legs!” Louis’ projecting, trying to be loud enough for all to hear without violently yelling. It’s a technique he’s mastered, and he’s proud of it as he’s bringing his right knee up to his chest now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, um—“ Harry begins, Louis not being able to help looking over, to find him with his right knee close to his chest too, although his technique is off, and it hardly reaches him in the slightest.“Gardening club, actually.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis quickly has to turn his head in order to bury the very minuscule grin into his hidden shoulder, because he honestly wasn’t expecting the boy to just out and say it like that.He also wasn’t expecting the boy to stay at the gardening club to help out with everything for so long, but Louis’ also very aware of how the group practically pressures and guilts unsuspecting strangers into taking part for as long as humanly possible, in the name of Mother Earth and all that.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis had been so distracted with his own warmth that he’d sort of tuned out all the teasing noises of question, the comments of “what, are you gonna pick apples next?”, and the final, “Louis, aren’t you in the gardening club?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um…let’s move to spread legs, guys.Right side first,” is how Louis responds, everyone following suit halfheartedly.“And yeah.Harry actually helped us out a bit today since he’d kind of, erm—stumbled upon it while doing something else.It was fun, the rest of you should try coming by sometime.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis can’t see Harry’s reaction from how he’s stretched over to touch his right foot, but he kind of doesn’t want to, just because he’s not sure how Harry would’ve absorbed the fact that Louis wasn’t entirely transparent about how the whole thing went down.Louis just doesn’t want to make it a whole <em>thing</em>, though, since the boys had already anticipated their interactions.That’s the <em>opposite </em>of what he wants.He even hopes what he’s already said doesn’t spark any sort of teasing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, <em>that </em>makes sense,” comes the voice of Byron.“I knew there was no way Harry’d been sworn into the society of tree huggers.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Now as Louis’ leading by example in order to switch over to the opposite leg, he actually does instantly look for Harry’s reaction, which—the boy isn’t even stretching along with them anymore, just lying down leisurely with the side of his face rested in his hand, immediately sending narrowed eyes Byron’s way.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Hey.</em>I can be complex,” Harry rebuttals.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In comes another grin Louis has to hide, that he actually buries <em>directly </em>into the grass this time, since his nose is close enough to it.It only takes about a second or two for him to wipe it off of his face, and when he’s lifting his head up in preparation to count everyone off on their sit-ups, he’s only slightly deterred at Niall’s knowing, smiling eyes on him, the boy obviously having read into this much more than anyone else on this grass has.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boys are having a cram-filled, weekend bulk study session, which is something they often do right before big matches in order to make sure they have nothing else to worry about throughout game weekend, and can devote all of their energy to either celebration, or strategic and endless drills in order to plan how they’re going to secure a win.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ quite fashionably late however since he’d gotten caught up in one of those soul sucking, yet binge worthy reality shows (they’re addictive for a reason okay), but sure enough, he’s now walking through the library building, towards their usual, giant study room towards the back on the third floor where he hopes to see his usual smiling, sometimes academically challenged, soccer boys and whatever friends they’ve invited along. They always manage to get one of the finer study rooms, the one with the giant wooden table for nearly thirty, and the cushioned, couch-like seats that roll around, surrounding the table.It’s truly a euphoric studying experience, and Louis in his comfortable giant gray school hoodie, sweatpants to match, and fuzzy socks pouring out of his slides, is ready to begin.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And a lot of that readiness and color and vibrance is drained from him just a bit once he’s pushing the door open and being met with all sorts of happy faces and greetings of his name and enthusiasm for his arrival—and Harry’s towards one far end of the table, sharing one of the larger cushioned seats with some guy (although it’s not large <em>enough </em>for them not to be practically on top of each other).It’s extremely evident, even as Louis’ averting his eyes and grinning at and greeting everyone else around him, that Harry’d literally had his arm around the guy, judging by the obvious motion of his hand in the air, his movement towards sitting up straighter, and his wide, huge eyes that always give him away.But Louis doesn’t acknowledge it, because there’s nothing to be acknowledged.Or felt.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Finally</em>.Now we can get some <em>actual </em>studying in!” Niall’s exclaiming, Louis leaning forth to clasp hands with him over the table before taking his spot at one of the heads of the table, pretty far from Harry and his red-haired boy, the both of them now seeming as though they’re miles away.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please don’t tell me that I’m an hour late, yet you guys <em>still </em>haven’t opened any books,” Louis says, fully shrugging the situation off as he gives his bored eyes to James and Niall and their empty table areas, the latter boy with his ankles crossed upon the table surface.“Come on, I <em>cannot</em> be the team mother all the time.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Louis tries his best, and succeeds little by little in getting everyone to get some actual <em>assignments </em>and <em>books </em>out and to have something on their laptop screens that isn’t Netflix or a YouTube compilation.Even though they’re still quite all over the place as they talk about whatever relationships are budding, the extraneous friends who aren’t on the team but joined them discussing party celebrations for the potential win, stupid knock knock jokes are being told for no reason at all, and Niall's throwing popcorn into Zayn’s mouth from the opposite side of the table, they still manage to be a lot more on task than before.And Louis’ laughing, and conversing, and taking notes, and he’s <em>definitely </em>not thinking about anything else.Can’t even hear whatever conversations may be going on at the other end of the table since everyone immediately around him sort of drowns that out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I honestly don’t think that’s fair either,” Louis’ saying at one point, in response to the conversation topic about one of the teammates on the opposing team for the Wildebeests, who’s clearly pushing thirty and most likely on steroids, and yet he’s allowed to be on a college team, which is sort of an unfair advantage.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You guys talking about that dude the Wildebeests have, uh—um, Grayson?” comes a well-projected voice towards the opposite end of the table, the boys immediately replying with affirmation, along with continuing to loudly support their case that he shouldn’t be allowed to play.It’s the red-haired boy who had asked the question, Louis discovers as he’s looking up in the midst of highlighting something in his notes.And whatever he’s saying gets him into quite a heated, yet healthy argument with all of them as he’s going “Come <em>on</em>, man!He can’t help when he gets to college!You sound like a fucking <em>idiot!” </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s kind of mean, isn’t he?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But nothing seems to affect Harry as the boy appears to be keeping his eyes pretty much glued to his open textbook upon the table, his elbows planted on the surface, and his guy friend very expressive with his words and sharp hands as he’s telling Richardson “why don’t you guys <em>prove </em>you’re badass by kicking a twenty-seven year old's ass on the field, then!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Harry, you’ve got a pretty feisty one there, don’t you?” comes the voice of Laila, one of the guy’s “situationships”, who prompts others to laugh and wave the boy off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis tries to ignore whatever sinking sensation is trying to get his attention right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shut up,” is how Harry’s responding, not even turning his eyes to look at them as they’re prompted to laugh even more at the entire situation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then pretty quickly, the topic is shifting to something else, and Harry and his boy are disregarded as some new, perplexing television show is being discussed, and Louis has moved on from just looking at Harry and this red haired guy, of course.He definitely has.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He definitely doesn’t turn on his super hearing in order to figure out what the boy is leaning forth to whisper into Harry’s ear, definitely doesn’t try to read his lips as best he can to find that the boy is saying “can you play with my hair again”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And no.When Harry’s moving to lean back in the seat again and lifting a hand toward the boy, Louis decides he’ll just put his eyes right back upon the scribbled words in his notebook and be a normal studying student today.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis actually succeeds in doing exactly that for quite a long amount of time, at some point not even remembering the last time he’s looked at Harry since he’d gotten his own laptop out and started to draft up one of his upcoming essays.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then, of course.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, if you’re gonna make out with your boyfriend, don’t do it at the study table, please,” James is saying.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Must…not…look.Must…not…look.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, just use the hidden corner by the history shelves like the rest of us, dude,” Zayn chimes in.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis just swallows as he fixes almost crazy eyes on his computer screen, suddenly feeling like he’s not sure how much longer he can even stay here at this point.How much more he can take.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’re not <em>making out</em>!” comes the defensive voice of Harry.“Do you <em>see </em>my tongue down his throat?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just about!” Garrell is saying, Louis seeing out of the corner of his eye that he puts his arm around Laila.“This is a professional, <em>academic</em> setting, okay?Why don’t you just keep it PG like me and Laila?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“God, you guys are boring.”It comes from Harry’s ginger-haired hothead, of course.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And the topic shifts, once again, leaving Louis to be the only one with his mind still lingering on it for some unknown reason, although he’s glad to say he still hasn’t given into looking over at them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s only betrayed by his own eyes when he can see the red-haired guy getting up in the distance without having to look directly at him, Louis somehow feeling just a bit lighter with the hopeful feeling that he might be leaving.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Guess we’ll be leaving you guys to do something more fun,” is what he’s saying, and then—</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s getting up with him.Ginger boy actually <em>hands </em>him his book bag, although a bit impatiently as Harry’s gathering his laptop and notebook and still trying to prepare to go.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boys are throwing up middle fingers and “<em>already"</em>'s to them as they’re making to leave, Louis now not knowing why his eyes just follow them, especially now that he realizes they would have to come closer towards where he’s sat in order to leave out of the study room door.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry just barely acknowledges Louis on his way past, just hardly nodding his head as though he owes the boy his manners, their eyes only meeting for a split second—which brings Louis to recognize that that was the only time Harry’d shared eye contact with him this whole night.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Louis just internalizes that thought as he cracks his knuckles and goes back to focusing on his laptop, tuning out the murmurs of how they wonder if Harry’s “keeping this one around”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis has one thing on his mind, and one thing only: he needs to finish drafting this essays and then he’ll be good to go on the coursework, and ready for the first match of the season, which is all the reason in the world to be absolutely <em>happy </em>and <em>smiling </em>and <em>pumped</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once the boys are calling it a night, tiredness settling into their bones as they take the time to transform the study room back into how it was when they found it, they’re dragging themselves through the library, down the stairs and towards the grand exits, and Louis doesn’t have a negative bone in his body.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Zayn seems to be the only one that notices Louis hanging out by the railing of the stairs near the exit, the rest of them dispersing or walking together towards where they parked, expressing enthusiasm about getting into their beds.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You coming?Sucks walking alone at night,” Zayn tells him, Louis forcing out a small grin as he shakes his head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nah, I think I’m gonna enjoy the fresh air for a bit on my own,” Louis replies, toying with the extra long sleeves on his thick hoodie.“It’s nice tonight.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Zayn simply shrugs at him and lets him be, trotting down the stairs with his hands in his pockets.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The air <em>is</em> nice tonight, and the faint dots of stars are more visible than the usual cloud of pollution allows them to be.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But that’s not why Louis’ chosen to stay back here. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He actually doesn’t know why.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All he knows is he’s getting this super weird feeling in his eyes—as though they’re stinging, or something.And his vision is blurring bit by bit as though something’s building within them—but <em>nothing’s </em>trailing down, so this certainly is far from a genuine cry.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ simply taking one step down and sitting himself upon the stairs, trying to keep the straightest face possible, because he knows if his expression even cracks a bit, if even the faintest of grimaces shines through, then he’s lost.And well, Louis just doesn’t lose.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t even know why this physiological reaction is taking place right now.It’s totally out of his control and it’s so pointless.He and Harry have literally never talked about anything.And not just in the sense of potentially somewhat liking each other in some special way, but in the sense of like, literally <em>anything</em>.So why this has thrown Louis for such a loop is ridiculous.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And there.By this logic, Louis has nothing to be in over his head about.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He decides on that as he allows himself one lone sniffle, uses the sleeves over his hands in order to gently pat his eyes dry, and releases himself of the situation as he moves to stand up, adjusting his book bag upon his shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He starts down the stairs, deciding that he will just get in his car, go home, go to sleep, and wake up in the morning prepared for their first match of the season, thinking of nothing else.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is really inconvenient.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s all Louis can think about as he’s sighing to himself right outside of the fence to the soccer field, his knuckles pressed against the handle and forehead rested against the metal of it, just taking a moment to prepare before he has to go in and start upon his usual meditation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Yes, <em>usual</em>, which is why he should do what he <em>usually </em>does and just walk in without a care.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So in a split second he chooses to do just that, pulling the gate open and lugging his practice bag upon his shoulder as he’s moving towards the grass.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There the boy is, of course, which is somewhat of a new <em>usual </em>that Louis didn’t ask for.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s head is coming up to acknowledge Louis’ presence, but there’s definitely this faint hesitance to his expression.It’s just not fully inviting and unabashedly brightened upon seeing Louis, more like a twitch of his small grin that goes away pretty quickly, his green irises simply asking if they should speak or not.Or if Louis wants to talk to him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” Louis tells him, since he figures Harry isn’t going to say anything, the boy having just removed one of his small earbuds as one of his notebooks is open in his lap, upon his once again crossed legs.There’s also an open bag of baked chips close next to him, crumbs nearby.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi,” Harry starts, swallowing a bit after clearly having gotten done scarfing some chips.“Excited for your whole meditation thing?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis nods, wanting to let out a laugh with the grin he’s making, but not managing to make genuine sound come out.“Yeah,” Louis begins, messing with the interlocking of his fingers in front of himself, before he just forces the rest of what he wants to say out, not wanting to drag this interaction out.“Kinda just doing a solo session today, if you don’t mind.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The faint air of being thrown flashes across Harry’s face for a millisecond, before the boy’s shaking his head and pursing his lips, words positioned down toward his notebook again as though he hadn’t even been thinking about joining him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I totally get that.I wouldn’t wanna ruin the whole point of meditation.”He finishes his words with a shrug of one shoulder and an insincere grin, before blindly digging his hand in his bag for more chips.“Wasn’t trying to—I have homework anyway, so…yeah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Why is this like pulling a needle out of the skin of the fleshiest part of Louis’ arm?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay.I’ll leave you to that,” Louis replies, the phony grin being wiped off of his own face once he’s turned around prepared to walk away, and he can’t even help the way his eyes just have to <em>roll</em> at that whole encounter.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ slowing in his feet, pretty far from Harry now since he’d been walking with purpose.And not only is the mere saying of his name what throws him just a bit, but the non-question of it.The way it harbors this foreign <em>serious, </em>almost bluntness to it.It threatens to terrify Louis as he turns around with an innocent hum of question, making slow steps in order to be within hearing range of the boy again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry appears to have made the mistake of poorly timed stuffing of his mouth with chips, because he has a finger up and a hand to his mouth as he’s finishing his swallowing in all his attractive and graceful glory.Louis crosses his arms and lets out an easy breath.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um—“ Harry begins, having a short lived one of his coughing fits, only one tiny huff blown into his fist as Louis patiently waits.Louis honestly doesn’t know if this is a stalling tactic or not.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then he’s lifting a hand to be expressive, his lips parting and his throat seeming to find the words for whatever it is he wants to say.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Those tips you gave at the study sesh were really good,” Harry starts, something on the interior of Louis disintegrating.“The one about checking the review at the end of the chapter instead of reading the chapter.”He puts up his hand with his thumb pressed to his pointer finger, in the way that people signify that something is okay.“Saved me <em>so </em>much time.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis nods, placing a small grin on his lips and still keeping his crossed arms to his chest.He <em>had</em> made a point of mentioning that to everyone at the table last night, kickstarted by hearing the terrifying dilemma of Niall needing to have read one hundred pages in a day.He hadn’t even known Harry was listening, however, since the boy hadn’t even looked at him once.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Welcome,” is all Louis says, although <em>politely</em>, before turning around and heading towards where he needs to be.Doesn’t need to see Harry’s reaction, doesn’t need to hear him say anything else, because he’s fucking <em>tired </em>of this whole pointless back and forth thing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once he’s taken his place in the middle of the field (back turned to Harry, of course), gotten his candle out and burning, and sat properly and comfortably upon his pillow, all he has to do is take a deep breath and close his eyes, ready to settle his bones and find his calamity before practice today.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he actually manages to <em>meditate </em>today.Acknowledge his thoughts in a healthy manner and attempt to bring his mind back to a point of focus.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Practice practically comes and goes.Probably because as soon as the clock strikes four, none of the boys are given a single moment of rest, since this <em>is</em> their last practice before their first match against the Wildebeests.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The nonstop energy of practice definitely prepares Louis for the next day, where everyone’s energy is off the charts, whether they’re on the team or not.On campus, he’d literally gotten kazoos blown in his face, and shouts of “<em>Tommo” </em>(his soccer nickname that he never approved of) from people he doesn’t even know, and even in the locker room before the match, where the sun is setting and there’s an exciting buzz of fans slowly filling the stands outside, the boys are getting blue streaks painted on their faces—actually courtesy of Harry.He’s quite sloppy though, even though literally all he has to do is paint two thick, blue stripes.How hard is that to do?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s quite the awkward moment when Louis’ getting his face painted by Harry, the other boys roughhousing and jocking it up in the locker room, slamming each other into lockers and expressing their jubilance towards kicking some Wildebeest ass.Louis’sat at the edge of one of the benches in front of the boy, and they haven’t said any words to each other besides “Hi”, “Hi”, “Big game tonight”, and “Yeah”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Coach is coming in as they’re nearing their time to run out on the field, the noise outside unmistakable by now, they’re blessed with one of his heavenly pep talks, this one being the first of the season, so Louis gets to see how the freshmen newbies wear the real inspiration on their faces and probably feel like they can fucking fly.Coach Branden definitely has a way with words.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It actually gets Louis to realize he hadn’t properly gotten his head into the game until now.Because <em>now</em>, the fiery passion that’s moving through his bones is something he’s once again feeling, and he’s very much prepared to leave this locker room as <em>Tommo, </em>ready to be the phenomenal team member he knows he is, <em>definitely </em>equipped to make at least one goal.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once they’re being beckoned onto the field, Coach is outside of the locker room doors doing his usual thing of giving the boys hard, encouraging pats on the back one by one as they’re running out onto the field, right through the cheerleaders and the screams of their names and all that joyous stuff.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Coach has Harry by his side too where he’s right outside of the locker room.He’d insisted Harry’s part of the team too and the boys would do better with encouraging pats of their shoulder by both of them.And apparently Harry is whispering crude words in people’s ears to be funny, which Louis only knows because right now as he’s in the locker room, mindlessly poking at things in his locker as though he’s busy, he’s one of the last people to go out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He just doesn’t want to have to get past Harry, honestly.Doesn’t need that interaction right as he’s just gotten his head in the game, right before he literally has to devote his entire being to the field and nothing else.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So he does waste time just a bit, well after the last few guys have gone out, Louis just claiming to the final boy (freshman Chase Something-hampton), that he’s just lost one of his shin guards that he’s looking for (he doesn’t have one).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis honestly doesn’t want the grand entrance, doesn’t want the Harry, just wants to be able to walk on that field and start the match.He’s honestly surprised Coach hasn’t poked his head in yet and threatened to slice Louis open if he doesn’t come out soon.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So when he deems it late <em>enough </em>to step out of the locker room, his energy pumped as he jogs in place and shakes his head and his arms out, he’s fully prepared and relieved to have most likely missed a lot of the pom pom ear screeching dramatics.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then there’s Harry.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s right there where Coach usually is, but he’s alone, just appearing to have been waiting patiently with his hands behind his back, and his giant blue school windbreaker, and blue head scarf to match.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I <em>knew </em>you hadn’t gone on the field,” he says with near relief, bringing a hand to his chest.“Coach thought you’d probably already left and we’d just missed you, so he went out to join them and stuff,” he continues, gesturing towards the vast field past this little darkened, alley area between locker rooms, the roaring audience and sports team musical band in the distance threatening to drown out Harry’s words.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not the case, obviously,” Louis replies, hands on his hips and eyes not meeting Harry’s once as they’re now glued to his cleats that he kicks into the pavement.“Well, I’ve gotta get going.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah—duh, um, good luck and everything,” Harry’s saying, although just a tad late since Louis’ walked away.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But even with how Louis’ practically reaching the moonlight of the field where he’d in half a second be stepping into the lights of it all and out of this dark secluded area with Harry, Harry still decides he’ll try his hand at calling Louis’ name.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis really could’ve pretended as though he didn’t hear it, because he <em>can</em> see Byron having noticed his faraway approach from the field as the boys are doing their individual stretches, and he’s done a sort of stern, secretive “come <em>on</em>”, motion, but.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t even say anything, just turns around and gives the boy one barely raised eyebrow of attention, still just a few feet between them.As the silence goes on for even one <em>second</em>, Louis’ <em>very </em>much fighting against just blurting <em>say anything of substance, please! </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um…” Harry begins, visibly swallowing as he works a hand down the back of his neck.“Me and that—that guy?From the other day.”It’s as though it’s completely impossible for him to look Louis in the eye right now as his sight is glued solely on the boy’s dirty cleats.“We didn’t like…do anything.I mean, like we’re definitely <em>not</em> anything, but—but, we also didn’t <em>do</em>…anything.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Every ounce of stoic focus and determination to not let anything affect him right now besides the match has dwindled away within just a few seconds, Louis’ eyes growing by just a smidge and his lips parting without any real plans to say anything.Because he truly doesn’t know what he’s even supposed to say.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He settles on talking anyway, without any plan or direction as he toys with one of his short sleeves and steps more towards the boy so they can properly hear each other.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh.I didn’t…um,” Louis begins, shaking his head lightly.“I wasn’t monitoring, or-or…I hadn’t said anything—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, yeah, I’m not saying you were doing <em>any </em>of that, I know you’re not like that,” Harry’s quickly interrupting, laughing nervously and furrowing his brows somewhat seriously.“I just….I just wanted you to know.Like, I <em>will</em> be honest and tell you we <em>were</em> supposed to do something, but we got back to my place and I kinda just wasn’t feeling it anymore, so.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ aware a whole match is about to start on the gigantic field behind him any minute now, and that hundreds of fans are awaiting it as they’re making up impromptu chants and waving around spirit flags.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That somehow doesn’t stop him from continuing this aimless back and forth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why?” is all he asks, one of his fingers now messing with his opposite elbow.He’s almost certain there isn’t an ounce of his body even thinking about soccer right now as he stares at Harry while the boy looks down.Literally all the boy would have to do is turn his chin up just a bit in order for their eyes to meet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It takes a few eternal seconds for Harry to even open his mouth, now slowly shifting from foot to foot and probably close to scratching a hole in his neck.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because…” he begins, bringing a hand out as though having something prepared to say, and <em>now</em> his eyes are coming up to Louis, although his mouth is doing nothing useful right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ not even going to lie, this is actually a bit painful to watch.It’s like there’s legitimately a hex on his mouth, like a witch cursed him with the inability to say things as the word <em>I </em>is positioned with his lips but never manages to leave with sound.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>LOUIS!!!” </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It actually brings Louis’ shoulders up to his ears, but he suspected it was coming.And the thunderous voice could only belong to none other than <em>the </em>Coach Branden, Louis knowing that at this point, he’s walking on a thin line of being a Bad Captain.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I better go,” Louis’ telling Harry, not looking at the boy anymore and instead starting backward on his feet, intent to turn around and leave Harry to his empty voice box.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, break a leg,” he hears Harry saying from behind him, followed quickly by a “or don’t, probably shouldn’t have said that”.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The match is really close.Almost irritatingly so. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Also, Louis hasn’t made a goal.Which yeah, it’s normal for the average player but there’s only been one goal made by their team, and it belonged to Liam, and Louis really <em>wants </em>to make one before the match ends.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So they currently sit at 1-0 during halftime, the boys having ransacked the water and snacks as soon as the interval was called.Louis was the idiot who’d taken his time to come over to where the cooler is near Harry, so it makes sense that there’s literally no water left once he’s coming over, since a lot of the boys like to take two and three at a time like they’re the only ones on earth, and Harry obviously isn’t aware of that yet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry seems to already spot the devastation on Louis’ face as Louis’ pulling the sweat drenched jersey away from his chest to get some air in and dragging his feet up.And then Harry’s reaching behind himself where he’s sat, to reveal—a water bottle.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Saved one for you.I knew they’d be hound dogs about it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A water bottle, full and cold and beaded with liquid crystals that are practically <em>glowing </em>to Louis right now, that he can’t even grin like an idiot at the kind gesture before grabbing it and getting the cap twisted open and guzzling about half of it down in one go.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s only saying “thank you” after he’s gotten that down and is panting from the exerted energy of chugging water like a madman in the desert.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Those boys can be really selfish brats sometimes!” Louis’ saying, running a hand through his damp hair.He has to raise his voice to even be heard among the general cheer of school fans and the boys conversing loudly on top of each other.“Do they not know that several bottles in the middle of a match can give them horrid water cramps?!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s being quite hysterical right now, thinking a lot of it can be attributed to this stupidly close match, along with him not having made a goal yet.He’s of course made aware of his frantically pissed demeanor when Harry’s laughing from below him, bringing Louis to simmer down and release deep breaths through his nose, somehow being soothed by the innocence of his reaction, even though the two of them <em>are</em> kind of in the middle of a <em>thing</em> right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re doing great out there,” Harry comments, twiddling his thumbs upon his lap. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, he <em>is</em> being a bit of a beast out there, isn’t he,” comes Niall’s breath-heavy, loud voice and callused hand slapping onto Louis’ shoulder, bringing Louis right out of this moment where he’d been forgetting his team members were around him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll be satisfied when I score a goal,” Louis says matter-of-factly, bringing his bottle back up to his lips again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ugh, this one.He’s never satisfied,” Niall’s saying, before getting his arm around Louis and whisking him away, proclaiming he has ideas to discuss with the captains about how they can go about the second half.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And after that, Louis honestly half listening to all the specifics of their game plan because there’s just so <em>much </em>going on, more encouraging words from Coach Branden, and midfielders being given pointers on how to deal with this particular team, they’re embarking upon the second half of the match.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it’s just as heated.If not more, because the possibility of having the penalty shootout determine the win is even greater now that the Wildebeests have made a goal.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s when there’s a few minutes left that they even come close to scoring another goal, and it happens in quite a lucky way, where one of the opposing players simply trips over his own foot and leaves a whole area wide open, bringing James to kick the ball over to Louis, and Louis suddenly just having the ball and a good shot at making a <em>fucking </em>goal.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Liam <em>is</em>, however, even closer to the goal, and would be <em>guaranteed </em>to make the goal if Louis were to pass it, especially since in this split second, the path to him is open, but Louis <em>also </em>has a pretty high probability of making the goal himself right now.He knows himself, he could make this kick in his sleep.It’s just the matter of anyone intercepting, and those typical soccer things. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even though this instance <em>is</em> quite short, there’s definitely a slowed down feel to it, with all the crowd cheers growing thunderously loud, yet fading into a mute sound in his ears, Louis honestly not knowing who to look to for direction as he dribbles the ball on the grass and prepares to either pass it or send it into the net himself.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then, he doesn’t know why he does it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But he just sort of <em>glances</em> over at Harry.It has to be something that happened quicker than anything he’s ever done, and all he sees, is the boy sitting there, not even noticing he has Louis’ attention as his eyes are solely glued to Louis’ feet where they’re around the ball, his lips repeatedly mouthing <em>pass pass pass pass </em>while not talking to anyone in particular, just simply staying to himself and hoping that’s what happens.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Louis passes it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And instantly, Liam sends it right into the goal with a kick that lands him in the dirt.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And the crowd goes wild.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When the water break is called, Louis isn’t even allowed to register anything before he’s being slammed into with happy bodies of his team members, everything muddy and cheerful and excited and jumpy, even though there <em>are</em> still some minutes to go, but come on.Everyone knows they’ve already won this thing.And a lot of them are attributing it to Louis and Liam right now, not even discussing any more strategy during the short break and instead manhandling them into the center in order to douse them in water.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So they end up winning, of course.The match ends in endless tackling into the grass, and school shouts, and everything blurry with different faces congratulating him and shaking his shoulders and roughing up his hair, and the consensus quickly becomes that everyone’s going over to the Kappa Psi frat house in order to get some real celebration in, courtesy of Liam, Niall, and Richardson who are a part of the fraternity.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">No, Louis did not make a goal, but somehow he’s okay with it.He’ll just try better next match.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What’s odd though is, he hadn’t been granted any sight of Harry after that winning goal.Everything’s just been so up in energy and crowded and jubilant that he’d only gotten him in slivers and blurs.  He sort of just gets lost in the sea of everything. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis doesn’t <em>have </em>to see him, anyway.The boy clearly has nothing real to say.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The afterparty at the Kappa Psi frat house is even packed enough for Louis to not come across the boy, only knowing the boy’s there, because someone’s asking where the “green” is, and someone else is loudly proclaiming that “Styles” has got it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ strangely not bothered by still being in his sweaty jersey like all the rest of the boys on his team (everyone insisted they come straight over, they can do all that “boring” stuff like showering later), and instead is just letting himself have fun with obliterating people on the Wii games in the Fun Room, and having Niall twirl him around by his hand to some song he doesn’t even know in the living room, and be held on the shoulders of a lot of the party goers, right along with Liam as their names are chanted and then they’re thrown into the pool against their will.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He finds himself in the kitchen at some point once he’s somewhat dry, but still donning his filthy attire and messy hair that has no rhythm to it.He’s also gotten Michael to fish his sports glasses out of the pool (with an actual fishnet).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Your ankle work is <em>crazy</em> man!” Yusuf says, this guy being a cool friend of Louis’ who used to cheat off of all of Louis’ tests that one semester in Introduction to Dance.Yusuf’s met with a lot of drunken, loud agreements by all who occupy the kitchen, stirring up drinks and sitting on counters under the dark red lights that give everything a cool shadow.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s really all about making sure the muscle here is hard as a rock,” Louis’ saying, bringing his ankle up to himself and rolling it around.“Once that’s accomplished you’ve got the world in your hands, my friend.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Have a shot, dude.You deserve it,” Yusuf’s saying, clumsily pouring a shot while everyone’s piping up to encourage the shot taking.He’s sliding it across the surface to Louis after he’s poured it, and Louis’ looking down at the overflowing clear liquid of it, knowing he only allows himself to drink occasionally.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Down it, Tommo!” some girl is shouting, prompting others to join in in sloppily, failing in coming up with an organized chant to get Louis to down the shot.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god, is <em>Louis Tomlinson </em>about to take some shots, I hear?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s the voice of Harry, although Louis instantly furrows his brows at the lack of that usual nervous uncertainty behind it.The boy’s voice is booming enough to blend in with all the rowdy people around him as he’s shouldering his way into the kitchen with clearly stumbling feet, on the opposite end of the counter across Louis as his eyes sparkle in the dark light and his rows of teeth are showing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Apparently I am, although I never agreed to this,” Louis’ replying jokingly, taking the shot in his hand and already knowing how badly it’s going to burn.‘</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is when the deafening chant of <em>Louis, Louis, Louis </em>starts up in the kitchen, Louis not needing to be told twice before tipping the shot into his mouth, and trying not to wince too much at the fact that it’s practically rubbing alcohol.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s quickly poured another one by Yusuf, Louis knowing just this first one is going to have him quite buzzed, but not being able to resist the empowering chants of his name, Harry having joined in too where he’s across the kitchen with his fingers drumming on the counter, yelling his name just the same.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Louis takes the second shot, and with how it goes down even more roughly than the first, Louis stands his ground and doesn’t go for the third one, because he knows he’s a lightweight anyway.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, okay, I’m done,” Louis’ saying, waving the shot away and not being able to hold in his giggle.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although everyone still tries to push him at first, eventually they’re onto something else, and Harry’s saying “I’ll take these” as he grabs two tall bottles of liquor from the table (which is what he’d probably came here for in the first place) and disappears back into the crowdedness of the people as he exits the kitchen.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And the shots are already coming at him.Not like a truck, but more like a minivan, in a way.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s why Louis finds himself floating through conversations he doesn’t remember starting, just knowing that every few minutes there are different faces in the kitchen, and right now, he’s sat on top of the counter talking to some girl about which planet is his favorite.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Curiosity comes upon him at some point when he’s sliding himself down, wanting to explore other areas outside of the kitchen to see how the party energy has progressed, and everything’s pretty much the same; the music in the living room is threatening to ache his ears, the video games are still intense and sensational, and there are a few chill wall-hangers around, who Louis’ really tempted to join right now as he’s inclined to sedate the spinning in his head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He decides to walk out onto the patio couch with the smokers and the more chill folks of the party, especially since he sees a bunch of cool people out there, cool faces that he likes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s also surprised he hadn’t noticed Harry was out here, until there he is, sat upon the bare wood near the low table, a blunt between his fingers that he’s actually feeding to some guy that sits beside him with glorious dark skin.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Of course.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis doesn’t even have a clear enough head to know who’s just called his name, but he definitely knows that the call of his name blinks Harry to life from where he’d been closely watching the boy’s mouth as he feeds him the blunt, the boy quickly pulling his hand away, and looking towards Louis with eyes that are probably <em>supposed </em>to be wide, but he’s too high to open them in such a way.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yep, it’s me,” Louis says clumsily, pointing his thumbs at himself before stepping over and just falling backwards into the couch, knowing he probably ruptures Zayn’s side in the process but not really caring for his overdramatic “<em>ow” </em>right about now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ unfocused eyes just now take notice of the weed on the table, the low, muffled jazz music playing from someone’s speaker making him feel increasingly at ease.Not only are there several lined up blunts on the table, one even resembling the notable crossed variety from <em>Pineapple Express</em>, but there is also just a lot of straight up weed, sitting there in clumps in whatnot.He doesn’t know the terminology.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wow, this is a lot of weed,” Louis comments thoughtfully, still reclined profusely in the couch, almost feeling like he’ll sink right through it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You can thank your gardening friend,” Zayn says lowly, clearly in a different realm, and also the only one who probably heard Louis, since Louis isn’t conscious of the volume of his voice right about now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Zayn’s really slow in turning his head toward Louis, Louis feeling the question of his dazed eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wanna share one?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis turns to meet eyes with the boy, his lips quivering with amusement at how absolutely high the boy is, what with his hardly open red rimmed eyes and shiny lips as though he’s been trying to lick the dryness away from his mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You are high <em>enough</em>, my friend,” Louis tells him, running a hand down his close arm.There’s a faint sound of what seems like Harry bursting into momentary laughter from something unrelated from his and Zayn’s conversation (the boy can’t possibly hear it from where he is), but Louis continues speaking, not paying much mind to it.“And, the room is already tilted for me, so I’m good.I also tend to wanna be anywhere else when I get high, and I’m not quite ready to leave yet.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Zayn just stares at him with low, twinkling eyes for a moment, Louis taking a lot of delight out of just holding much too close eye contact with him and being drunk and giggly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Suit yourself,” is what he says after a long moment, before shifting to lean forward and reach for another blunt again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The difference between being high and being drunk is, Louis actually wants to get up again already.He’s seen this couch, he’s sat on this couch, and now he wants to explore some more, even though he’s pretty familiar with this frat house, since he has friends here, and it’s also the usual go-to for after match celebrations.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Louis’ moving through the house again, taking in the different sections of the party and internalizing that it’s all for him, and his teammates, and that life is awesome, and that he can’t remember where his shoes are, and that now he’s wondering if anything’s going on upstairs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There is, in fact, nothing going on upstairs, besides the ridiculously long line to the bathroom. Louis quietly wishes he could just tell them the filthy bathroom of theirs is definitely nothing worth waiting for and that they’d be better off in the bushes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis finds himself just wanting a moment alone, and knowing he can get it when he spots Niall’s room down the hall, door slightly opened and Louis already sensing the usual smell of Axe mixed with greasy, left open bags of chips that often permeate his room’s air.Ah, smells like home to Louis’ drunken nostrils.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Louis’ going into the boy’s room and closing the door behind himself, sort of leaning on the knob for a moment or two just to collect himself and stabilize his environment (it makes sense in his head).Then he’s pressing a heavy hand to the door in order to push himself away and walk clumsily over the carpet, intent on reaching the bed to lay on it, but somehow giving up when he’s almost made it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s instead sinking his back down against the edge of the bed, sitting upon the carpet and feeling more grounded than he’s felt in a minute as he brings his fingers to scratch at his sweaty torso underneath his mangled jersey.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’ll be safe here.He’s drunk, and he’s safe here where he won’t do anything stupid.The faraway music almost makes him feel like he’s underwater, and it’s really cool.Yeah, he thinks he’ll stay here.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis almost becomes pretty convinced he’s the only one that exists as he sits there for who-knows-how-long, but then the door knob is twisting, and Louis’ blinking languidly toward it, even though the door now seems to be dozens of miles away.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, it’s you,” Louis’ mumbling without thinking, turning back to face forward, eyes focused on the white dresser Niall has, that he’d bought white only so he could “decorate” it with these horrendous crayon and marker scribbles.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It <em>is</em> me,” Harry’s saying with a loose laugh, Louis hearing the door close behind him.“Although you don’t seem to care too much.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ suddenly aware that his reaction <em>had </em>been pretty short of pleasant, now looking up at Harry as the boy’s walking over on wildly unbalanced feet, almost as though he’s on an actual tight rope.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh—no, I just,” Louis begins, shrugging.“Thought it’d most likely be Niall, or something.Since this <em>is </em>his room.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He watches as Harry comes over to sit with him, putting out a steady hand for the bed as he slides himself down against it as well, although he’s backed into the corner where the bed and the shorter dresser by Niall’s bed meet and give him this sort of comfy corner of rest.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I was actually just popping my head into different rooms, trying to see what else’s goin’ on,” Harry tells him, eyes just a bit sleepy and slow blinking.“Why’re you here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis breathes in gently through his nose as he rests his head back against the low-set bed.“Just clearing my head.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s voice is a bit softer now, as though feeding off of the barely there volume of Louis’ voice, since they’re both sat here in the quiet, close enough for anything.“Clearing your head?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis peers at the boy out of the corner of his eye with a nod.“Yeppers.”He chuckles only for a half second, Harry joining in quietly.“Just realized I’m pretty buzzed, don’t wanna do anything embarrassing or regretful, ya know.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dude, that’s <em>literally </em>the point of getting drunk,” Harry’s saying, his words running together just a bit but Louis deciphering them as best he can.“You have to be the first person I’ve met who <em>doesn’t </em>wanna fuck shit up and cause drama the second they get alcohol in their system.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis smirks crookedly at that, picking his head up and sharing genuinely tickled eyes with Harry.“Guess I’m just different.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s lips stretch to curve the longer they hold fuzzy, glimmering eye contact in the near dark of Niall’s bedroom.“Guess you are.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In any regular situation, with a regular mind, on a regular day, Louis would’ve laughed nervously or ripped his sleeves to shreds or declared that he had something else to go do right about now, but strangely, he’s perfectly comfortably in just keeping warm, tired eyes on Harry and grinning like an idiot.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That kick you did today was really awesome.When you passed it to Liam?” Harry’s telling him, running both hands through his hair as though trying to contain some bout of enthusiasm.“Like—just the <em>selflessness</em> of it was awesome.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Would you hate me if I said I’d <em>really</em> contemplated taking the shot myself?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s already shaking his head, knees up to his chest as he’s scooting up to Louis only a smidge.“No.I mean, who wouldn’t?” Harry’s saying emphatically.“Plus, I already figured, because you’d been whining about it at halftime, remember?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ opening his mouth with offense, although the smile can be seen pretty transparently.“<em>Whining?” </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry doesn’t miss a beat in nodding with a cheeky look on his face.“Yes, whining, because we all <em>know</em> you’re an amazing player, and still would’ve been praised tonight regardless.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I guess…” Louis begins, being glad everything’s so low in lighting, because he’s most likely sporting a bit of a blush right now.“…I guess fuck you, <em>and </em>thank you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry nods once, closing his eyes briefly with an outrageously wide grin.“You are very welcome.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They share another small moment of easy laughter between themselves, Harry’s arms wrapped around his close knees, and Louis not understanding why the sight of it makes him feel so flowery inside.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know, being drunk really eliminates a lot of that awkward stuff we do with each other,” Louis decides to say matter-of-factly in this moment, gesturing between the both of them as he brings one of his outstretched legs up, his right knee pointing in the air.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s wholeheartedly laughing now as he fully throws his head back, shifting position with his palms to where he’s now sat more opposite of Louis, not pressed against the bed anymore and more able to properly face him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We <em>do</em> kind of have an awkward dynamic going on, don’t we?” Harry asks rhetorically, leaned back easily on his palms, Louis taking notice of how his pinky finger is about an inch away from his outstretched leg.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, we definitely do,” Louis agrees, not being able to keep the laughter out of his voice now that he’s thinking about how ridiculous it is, especially since they’re talking so easily right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s question is asked through entertained, chuckling lips as well.“Why the fuck do we do that?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think part of it might be because the boys had made it a whole <em>thing </em>about us both being, you know—like…before we’d even met, really.So there was a sense of pressure.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s face is less smiley and more stupefied as his eyes are opening some more, the boy scooting in just a little closer (his hand <em>now</em> on the other side of Louis’ leg, palm resting on the carpet there between his open legs—not that Louis notices).It’s pretty funny how he’s trying to be serious in the midst of being both high and drunk.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god, they did that with you too?” Harry’s saying with a hush.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis doesn’t know why, but he finds himself quite relieved to discover Harry’d gotten the same teasing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Yes</em>!Like it’s so annoying.Just because we’re both like…<em>gay</em>,” Louis begins, waving the word off and ducking his head (he’s still freshly out of the closet, it’s a bit of a struggle to say it out loud okay).“Doesn’t mean we’ll automatically fall into each other.Other qualities have to click, you know.”He finishes off with a gentle chuckle, looking to Harry for affirmation that he’s voicing both of their thoughts, and sure enough Harry’s nodding right along with a lopsided curve of his lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“God, they can be such idiots sometimes,” Harry says, shaking his head and rolling his eyes as he runs a hand down the back of his neck.His voice is transitioning into something much softer, Louis watching his face earnestly and really enjoying this effortless back and forth.“<em>All</em> the time, actually,” is what Harry continues with, his starlike eyes coming back up to meet Louis’ and his voice endlessly feathery.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although Louis’d been on a roll with being comfortable in this moment and allowing the words to flow out with no difficulty, he does have to take in just a bit of a less-than-smooth inhale before speaking, not really knowing what’s come over him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Louis says on exhale, growing sucked into the gluing of his and Harry’s eyes together, closer than Louis had noticed until now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although it’s faint, and honestly could’ve been something else, he hears Harry let out a confirming “mhm”, as though agreeing, even though they’ve both already agreed, and how many times are they going to agree, and why are they still sitting here just <em>staring </em>at each other, and why can Louis smell whatever it is Harry uses as body wash.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There are less approving grins and light eyes as they’re sitting there, Louis only letting his chest move with his steady, slow breaths, sort of using this moment as a mini meditation to keep him grounded.To keep him from freaking out while Harry’s eyes are dancing towards his nose, and then focusing on his lips as he’s slightly furrowing his brows, as though the boy’s weighing it out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>In…out…in…out </em>is all that’s whispering through Louis’ head as one of the boy’s hands is coming up in his peripheral, moving outrageously slowly in time with the inching in of his face toward Louis.Only when Harry’s close enough to tilt his head does the boy’s hand land softly upon the left side of Louis’ jaw, fingers splayed carefully across the bottom of his cheek in a barely-there grip, Louis not even knowing when he’d closed his own eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He tilts his own head just barely in time for their lips to meet, Harry’s lips slotting in between his, this one peck drawn out and thoroughly sweet, Louis just barely chasing it as it’s nearing its end.Although it doesn’t matter, because they’re both going in again, their lips just as slow and clinging gently to each other as everything outside of this very room and moment begins to float away in Louis’ drunken mind.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not after long, Louis is lifting his hands too, and sort of gently placing his fingertips on either side of Harry’s face, just having wanted to touch him and be reminded that this moment is real and that the boy is real, since it’s been so long since he’s opened his eyes that he can’t be sure.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And yes, Harry is real, and the hot exhales shared between them, after each pucker and before the next are very much real.  Both of their heads are switching to dive in opposite ways with enthusiasm, the engulfing of their lips deepening as Harry’s grip on his jaw grows just a touch firmer.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ not even sure if it’s still him in control of his own body as he’s leaning into the boy with more urgency, Harry instantly making himself more open to Louis as he leans back on his palms, their noses connected during this break from lip locking and Harry getting settled back on his elbows as Louis grips his chin and goes in for a kiss again.He’s practically hovered over him now with their bodies gently pressed together as they go at it, and he makes a maneuver to curve an arm under Harry’s back as he’s on top of him, just to get their chests more snug together.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He definitely experiences a sensation of Harry’s tongue somewhere during this, sliding warmly into Louis’ mouth as Louis’ over him, not being able to help the way he lets out a single hum in response to it, their kisses falling into languid, deeper territory.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s when Harry’s getting an arm up to snake around the back of Louis’ neck, his tender fingers brushing through his sweaty soccer match hair as Harry slowly drifts fully onto his back, that <em>something </em>goes off in Louis’ mind, like the distant sound of a police siren.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He and Harry had <em>just </em>settled in a lying position when Louis’d pulled his lips away with a smacking sound, immediately switching demeanor as he blinks himself back to life and is backing up off of the boy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait—um,” Louis’ saying through the light breaths that have accumulated as a part of this make out session.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Harry’s merely breathing, looking genuinely confused in his eyes, with his much messier hair now, and open legs and knees as he’s sitting up, and oh fucking <em>god</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis slaps a hand to his forehead, his warm, stupid forehead.“This isn’t—like <em>this? </em>It’s not…” Louis begins, and there.<em>There’s </em>that amazing social technique that regularly sabotages his interactions with Harry.“I’m fucking drunk, and a mess, and all sweaty and stupid—and you’re under <em>two</em> influences, actually.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s only nodding once with a heavy head, Louis literally <em>seeing </em>the fiery want in his eyes that he’s struggling to contain.The boy proceeds to shift closer to him with one slow scoot, managing to bring himself considerably close as their hips are only a mere two inches from touching.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You <em>are </em>pretty sweaty,” Harry’s saying, his voice low in a fashion that Louis has <em>never</em> heard from him before, the boy reaching forth to bunch Louis’ jersey in his fingers at his chest, his eyes already floating back to Louis’ lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis only speaks up again right at the last moment where their lips would’ve met, their foreheads once again ghosting each other.“We shouldn’t right now,” Louis tells him, missing the boy’s mouth by tilting out of the way.He tries to be gentle in pushing Harry’s hand away from his jersey, Harry releasing him, although the quiet disappointment and puzzlement on his face is evident.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry, I have to go.”He’s saying it as he’s getting up, having to scoot out of the way of an extremely close, heat encompassing Harry in order to get up to his feet before he can change his mind. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s staying right where he is even as Louis’ stood up, Louis looking down to see the boy’s eyes haven’t followed him up.The boy is instead keeping a sort of tired, defeated gaze right ahead of him and at nothing, particularly the edge of the bed Louis’d just been sat up against.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Goodnight, Harry,” is what Louis settles on, before moving towards the door to the room and not looking back even once.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once he’s gotten the door open and is on the outside of it, closing it behind himself, it’s <em>extremely </em>convenient that the first face he sees is Niall, shirtless and only wearing his jersey shorts, and also having been just about to walk right past Louis, before he’d done a double take and backed up on his feet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Woah, <em>who </em>were you with?” Niall’s asking, the seriousness of his face vexing Louis in several ways, because <em>why </em>is the boy so passionate about butting into his love life?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No one,” Louis quickly replies, one hand still tightly on the doorknob as he stands in place.“I was just alone.Using your bathroom.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Niall nods with fake understanding, Louis knowing the boy doesn’t buy it because Niall’s bathroom is probably even worse than the public one out in the hall.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, so I guess it’d be fine if I just went into my room right now,” Niall starts, already advancing forward and reaching for where Louis’ hand is still on the doorknob.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>No, </em>okay,” Louis starts, successfully getting Niall to pull his hand away and not, under <em>any </em>circumstances, open this door.“I was with Harry.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Niall’s eyebrows shoot up to the sky, his expression switching into something more smiley and cheeky within a second as he crosses his arms over his bare chest.“Oh really?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, but we weren'tdoing anything,” Louis lies, right before Niall is already stepping forward again and threatening to open the door himself.“<em>Okay, </em>we were kissing.”His voice is quietly hushed through his exclamation, because after all, Harry <em>is </em>inside this very room and could hear them if they aren’t careful.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ quickly stepping forth with both hands on either of Niall’s arms however, moving them far away from the door and wanting to speak before the boy says anything.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But don’t make this a big <em>thing</em>, okay.Please?” Louis’ telling him, not being afraid to show blunt, drunken desperation. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why?” Niall’s asking, even almost pouting.“The boys would be so <em>geeked </em>about this!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I just—“ Louis begins, bringing his hands back to himself and into his hair in order to scrunch it with stress.“I don’t want it to be a whole soccer team gossip, because it’s not that serious, alright?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although it takes a long period of Louis sinking his pleading eyes into him, and Niall looking pouty and defiant to Louis’ wishes, eventually the blond boy is rolling his eyes and going “fine”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis whispers a “thank you” to him whilst moving to fumble with his fingers, which is probably a sign that the liquor is wearing off and he may be transitioning back into the Louis who’s an awkward deer whenever it comes to anything concerning Harry.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But I <em>knew it, </em>I <em>knew it</em>, I <em>knew </em>it would happen!” Niall’s finally bursting with excitedly, fingers poking at Louis relentlessly and Louis having to reprimand him and push him away as they’re both moving to make their way towards the stairs.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ closing his car door behind him after he’s gotten out of it, experiencing another sunny day out in the parking lot before he hits the soccer field, does his usual meditation, and then gets to work with his trusty teammates.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Today will be no different.Or at least, that’s what Louis’ telling himself to cope as he lugs his feet and his sports bag over to the entrance fence to the field, hoping for the best.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He still hasn’t taken any time to plan what he might say, but that’s alright.Planning is what make things go to shit anyway.He will just deal with this however it comes to him, and everything will be okay.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry might not even remember that night, honestly. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And if that’s the case, there won’t be anything to talk about.They’ll just share their polite smiles, greetings, and pleasantries, and Louis will go towards the center of the field like normal.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s only after he’s closing the gate behind himself and moving towards the grass that Louis realizes he’d actually expected <em>too </em>much for today because.Harry isn’t even there.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The bench where he’d usually be, sitting with his chaotic scarf and his dancing hair and his abundance of bags and books and journals and coolers and laundry, is now empty and bare for anyone to sit.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis only allows himself a few seconds to slow on his feet in order to ponder the view of the empty bench.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But then he figures there’s no use in dwelling on it, and this was probably the best case scenario, so he hikes up his bag and moves upon the grass towards his meditation spot.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry does come eventually though, right along with a lot of the other boys just as practice is set to start anytime now.Louis had been done with his session and was in the midst of embarking on his journey towards the bench in order to do away with his bag and jacket and whatnot.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They come in as rowdy as usual, Harry, James, Zayn, Richardson, Niall and about two of the freshmen all seeming to be having quite a laugh, as even a blunt is passed from where Zayn’d been holding it between two fingers, right to Harry who takes it from him and takes a thorough drag.No wonder everything appears to be extremely funny for some reason to their little group.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Zayn?” Louis says, figuring addressing him would be his best bet, as he sets his bag on the ground and gives the boy a pointed look.“Smoking right before practice?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Zayn puts his hands up as though he’s innocent, although the passion doesn’t reach his low, dreaming eyes as he’s pulling his sports bag strap over his head.“Just a little bit, dad.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not funny,” Louis replies, shrugging his warm up jacket off and trying to ignore the rise in body heat at just the mere feel of Harry walking past him, towards his further spot on the bench. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So um…” one of the freshmen, Chase, starts, hesitantly stepping up to Louis and pausing his words to blow a laugh into his fist.“…Louis.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis quirks his eyebrows up, letting his jacket fall from his hand and onto his sports bag as he gives the boy his sole, albeit a little skeptical, attention.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And as the boy is still sporting this sort of secretly hysterical, amused aura about him, Louis’ growing more and more skeptical by the second, especially since it seems any other conversations have quieted down to a point.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I just wanted you to show me that, um…twisty move you do?Where your left foot goes behind your right ankle sometimes?” he continues eventually, just a faint red to his cheeks, and oh.Laughter must be a nerves thing for him.Louis really should get to know the freshmen some more—he’ll definitely pitch team building hang out time to Coach today.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, of course,” Louis replies with a nod, already jogging over the grass to where they’ll have more area and beckoning the boy along.“C’mon, I’ll show you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Somehow, his eyes meet with Harry just as he’s quite far from the general hubbub of arriving teammates who either venture toward the locker room to change or linger around.Harry is simply sat on the bench, back sloped against the brick right behind it as he has a blunt to his lips and a far awayness to his low eyes.All Louis did was nod at him, figuring there was no reason to be anything less than polite, and all he’d gotten in return was barely an upward twitch of his lips, before his attention was taken away by Garrell, who walked up, wanting the blunt passed to him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And…Louis guesses that’s okay.Louis hasn’t known him for long, but the boy getting high can’t be out of character for him, can it?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Louis just lets it be and demonstrates his technique to Chase, cherishing these moments where he’s reminded that some of the teammates actually look up to him and are willing to take direction from him, even though Louis often hates making a big deal out of his co-captain status.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Niall’s walking up to Louis once he’s let Chase off with a pat to his shoulder and encouragement that he’ll eventually get it.The boy has his giant personal water flask to his lips as he’s coming up, before ducking in towards Louis and bringing a hand to the boy’s arm.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s going on with you guys?” he asks, the sincerity heard even in his low tone.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis immediately shrugs the boy’s hand off, however, not wanting to give any kind of attention to this matter today.“Nothing—literally <em>nothing</em>.”He’s already spotting Liam arriving in the distance and using that as an out to jog up to the boy and talk about <em>soccer</em> at <em>soccer </em>practice, for goodness’ sake.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Coach had already made it known he wouldn’t be making it to practice today (hence why a blunt is even being passed around right now), so it’s mostly held by the captains as they take it easy on the boys for once, since they’ve been working pretty hard, won the last match, and simply deserve it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s been a pretty chill practice once the sun’s going down, Louis even pointing out the progress he’s seen in freshmen Khalil and Sam, feeling like a proud parent even though he’s only just started playing with them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry hasn’t said a word.Or done anything but slump there like a bag of potatoes.But Louis’ sure he has good reason.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s only when they’re ending practice a little bit early that the boy’s moving again, all the boys gathering their things and having lighthearted banter about stupid stuff, like how long Liam’s hair’s getting, or how Byron runs like an insecure elf.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh shoot,” is what’s cutting into all the lightheartedness, the sound made by Liam as curious eyes turn toward him, to find the boy looking down at his phone with his sports bag hanging off of one shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t think I can take you today, Harry.I totally forgot I had to go across town to pick up my sister and her friends from dance practice,” he’s explaining, Louis’ eyes flitting to Harry, who’d been standing by him, conversing with Byron about something that sounded pretty trivial.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s reaction is pretty delayed with how high he is, the boy turning his slow blinking eyes toward where Liam is to the right of him, shaking his head as though it’s no big deal.“Ah—it’s fine.I’ll probably just—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Actually, Louis lives right by you,” Liam quickly cuts in, setting a hand on Harry’s shoulder as he looks at Louis.  Garrell and Niall are halfheartedly cutting in with “oh yeah" and "he <em>does</em>”.“Don’t you, Louis?” Liam directs the innocent question to him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ pretty in the dark about all that’s going on right now, but he’s going to safely assume the main point is that Harry needs a ride to where he lives.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where’s he—um, <em>you</em>…live,” Louis replies, getting his sports bag upon his shoulder and looking between the boy’s eyes to at least give the illusion of eye contact.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry doesn’t care about lack of eye contact however, and he actually looks quite over the whole situation as he has his hands low in his baggy sweatpants pockets. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Forest Ridge,” he replies.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And yes, Louis <em>does</em> live in that apartment complex.Crazy that they haven’t figured this out until now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh well, yeah, I can take you home,” Louis starts, stepping towards the boy so he can make this more of <em>their</em> conversation rather than anyone else’s, who’s watching them with prodding, curious eyes, just hyperaware of any interaction between them since they were speaking so far apart.“If um…” Louis begins, sniffing once and securing the temple of his glasses.“That’s fine with you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Everything’s fine with me,” Harry’s replying with nearly closed eyes and a dumb growing grin, before moving past Louis and barely brushing his shoulder, the boy headed towards his belongings in order to get prepared to leave.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis just curls his fingers around the long sleeve of his warm-up jacket, telling himself this will just be a simple car ride.Nothing to fret about.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He actually comes over to help the boy with some of his stuff after a while of just kind of sadly watching him be too high to function, the boy actually missing his bag several times just trying to stuff his binders into it.Harry doesn’t even say anything or acknowledge the gesture once Louis’ scooping up one of his duffle bags and the extra binder that won’t fit.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Regardless, soon they’re prepared, and Louis’ nodding the boy over so they can start on their way to the parking lot, and he’s wishing his teammates a good night on the way out, making sure to remind them to do their individual workouts and treat their body like a temple.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you a monk, or something?” Harry’s asking once they’re outside of the fence, walking across the vast parking lot, with the cars spread out on the pavement.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis does a double-take at the question, eyebrows knitting together slightly as he forces out a single huff of laughter.“What?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Your body is a temple</em>, and all that mumbo jumbo,” Harry continues, eyes glossed over straight ahead of him as they walk.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ instant inward reaction to this is offense of course, but he’s definitely not about to start up any friction before they’re about to ride in his car for about twenty minutes together.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Erm, no.I just—like to like…encourage the boys to…” He <em>would</em> finish, but Harry’s laughter has just been building, now having evolved into giggles he can’t keep from bursting out as his dimples deepen on either side.“…well, it doesn’t really matter, really.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And with that, Louis shrugs it off and moves to stop in front of his simple burgundy compact car, struggling to fish into his pocket for his keys while having his arms quite occupied.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh god.We’re going in this thing?” Harry’s asking.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At that, Louis actually does shoot the boy a look, although Harry doesn’t take notice of it as he’s rounding the car in order to get to the passenger door.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Does it really make sense for you to be picky right now?” Louis’ asking as he’s finally reaching his door and pressing the button on his keys.He honestly doesn’t know if Harry actually says anything through unintelligible mumbles or if he just giggles as he’s getting all of his items into the backseat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why are you needing a ride anyway, if you don’t mind me asking?”It’s asked both out of curiosity and because Louis is trying to fill the silence as he turns his keys in the ignition in order to get the thing on, desperately waiting for the radio to provide at least some sort of refuge.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Car. Shop.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He waits for just a few seconds for the chance that the boy may elaborate, but nothing else comes out of his mouth once the radio is coming on at a low, yet comfortable enough volume.Even in the absence of Harry speaking, Louis still does kinda keep his eyes set on the boy, who sits rested back in his seat with sleepy eyes, faced forward and not really having given Louis genuine eyes even once today.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Only in the distance does Louis see Sam moving towards his car, offering Louis a wave just as he’s getting his door open.Louis waves back at him, and then only looks over his shoulder briefly to confirm that they’ll be the only ones in the parking lot once Sam leaves.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Listen,” Louis begins, actually reaching out and turning down the already low volume, because he really just needs to be heard.“Um, about—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nah, it’s okay,” Harry’s cutting in, already waving the boy off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But I—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, I shouldn’t…” Harry begins, appearing just a tad more sober as he shakes his head down at his chest.“I shouldn’t have…done <em>that</em>.I was <em>really</em> out of it, actually,” he continues through laughter and furrowed brows.“So we don’t have to like…talk about it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">A silence follows, where Harry’s toying with the ribbon tied drawstring on his sweatpants and looking down, and Louis’ just watching his jaded profile, trying to figure out if it should just be left at that.Wasn’t not talking about it exactly what Louis wanted?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It only takes Louis a split second to realize that no, it wasn’t.It really wasn’t.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis keeps his voice soft amidst the silence, almost even timid.“But I want to.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god, do you hear that?” Harry says, his voice at a significantly normal volume, which contrasted quite harshly with the car atmosphere in that moment.His head turns toward the radio before he’s reaching out and turning it up, some indie rock transfusion now filling the car much more fully.“The fucking <em>Smiths.</em>I’ve never heard them on the radio before.<em>Fuck</em>, that’s awesome.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ letting out one of his nervous, appeasing laughs, trying to give the boy what he wants and not talk about it, before he’s simply moving the gear shift in order to start on this car ride.It’s clearly what the boy wants, as he’s playing a lazy air guitar in the passenger seat and high as a fucking kite.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And they don’t really exchange words on the car ride.It’s mostly just Harry bobbing his head, or playing an imaginary drum set, or verbally criticizing the music, mumbling to the point where Louis doesn’t even know if he’s supposed to be able to hear him, and even mimicking the voices from the commercials in order to giggle at himself.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">By the time Louis’ parking at his apartment complex and turning the car off, he’s actually a bit glad to be parting ways with the boy and whatever he’s clearly going through.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Except he’s not.Which he realizes once Harry’s gotten everything out, is juggling the pounds of shit he usually has to juggle to their practices, and is simply just giving Louis a nod and a thanks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis speaks quickly before the boy can take more than one step away, his backpack and sports bag now on and weighing down his aching practice bones.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You want me to walk you up?I know you’ve got a lot of stuff.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um, I actually happen to be a grown man, Louis,” Harry tells him, although there’s humor to both the tone and his crooked lips as he’s leaning with his forehead towards the boy, the duffle bag slung over his left shoulder.“I do it everyday, and I’m sure I’ll be fine doing it now.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis ponders for a moment, their faces strangely close, and Louis not knowing if he should take the regular route of just letting him be, or if he should just give the boy back the exact same energy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Really?You’re a grown man?” Louis retorts, placing his hands on his hips and turning his chin up at Harry.“I couldn’t tell.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s a little sidetracked by that for a moment, the smug look wiped off his face as they’re engaged in some sort of staring match, Louis quirking his eyebrows and pursing his lips comfortably, Harry growing wrinkles between his brows.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then, the boy is swinging his duffle bag over his shoulder, and stuffing it in Louis’ chest, which Louis immediately takes a hold of, even though the contact was quite rough.Harry doesn’t wait around for a reaction though, before moving past the boy, Louis getting the hint and reluctantly turning around in order to follow him towards the stairs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They walk in silence, Harry surprisingly lifting the empty cooler along easily and also several steps ahead of Louis, both because he’d started ahead, and also because he continues to skip steps every now and then.His legs truly are long, aren’t they.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know—“ Louis begins, figuring he just has to say <em>something </em>before they part ways, even if it’s through heavy breaths as he struggles to keep up with Harry.“The kiss wasn’t a problem.It wasn’t <em>bad</em> or anything—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Not talking about it,” </em>Harry’s singing over his shoulder, the boy taking long steps down one of the corridors once they’ve reached the third floor.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Harry</em>,” Louis says a bit forcefully, grateful for the break once they’re stopping in front of one of the doors and Harry’s digging through the pocket in his sweatpants.“I just don’t want you to think that the problem was <em>you</em>, or anything.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The bitterness to Harry’s laugh is what quiets Louis a bit, Harry having gotten the key twisted in the lock and moving to twist the knob open.“That’s a classic, isn’t it?<em>It’s not you, it’s me.”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis fumbles the words he wants to say about how ridiculous Harry’s being as his mouth opens and closes, Harry entering his apartment, and Louis for a split second not knowing whether he should follow him in now or not.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then Harry’s simply dumping everything he’d been lugging right inside next to his entrance, before making a lazy turn around towards his front door frame.  He rests his hands against the frame as he lays his cheek upon it, his body leaned quite comfortably and his eyes hardly open.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, the <em>problem </em>is I’m not your type,” Harry says, as though it’s a fact, something that’s been said before.His eyes are even actually meeting Louis’ for the first time in a while as he says it, although he’s not reactive to the way Louis’ eyes grow in size upon hearing it.“I’m not your type, and that’s okay, Louis.”He nods and shrugs approvingly, as though it doesn’t affect him as he steps forth to take the duffle bag out of Louis’ arms, Louis still somewhat frozen there with this dumb look on his face and a myriad of thoughts running through his mind.“Can’t force something like that, so it’s alright.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Harry…I…” Louis begins, lips parted but his mind not formulating coherent thoughts as Harry’s moving to grip the doorknob behind him, prepared to close the door.He seems to spare the boy at least a second or two to see if he’ll get any thoughts together, Harry’s face endlessly bored and his lips anything but open. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry eventually succumbs to holding out a fist in the air towards the boy, knuckles awaiting a “bump” that Louis moves on autopilot in order to bump with his own fist, even though his mouth is still open with the words he’s currently choking on. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry finally closes the door with a small “bye”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ stood there with a door in his face.Really close to his face, actually, since he’d been just on the verge of maybe letting himself in with no invitation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Louis honestly doesn’t know how the hell he’s supposed to fix this now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Or how the fuck those words even <em>got</em> to him.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s going to kill Niall.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And no, it’s not something that he needs to take time to sit and think about, and wait for when he’s less livid, because it’s now been an entire weekend after the fact.Louis has had these free days to think, and wonder, and contemplate forgiveness, and yeah, he still wants to kill Niall.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is why he’s currently walking with heavy, determined feet along the east side of campus, only giving half a nod to the people he knows that greet him or wish him luck on their next match. He’s mostly having his sight set on the class the blond haired devil would usually be in at this time—Shakespearean Literature.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ entering the building quite hastily, headed for the boy’s lecture hall at the end of the corridor and still feeling just as tight at the chest as he had when Harry’d closed the door on his face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Niall</em>,” Louis’ saying, certainly not yelling but projecting with enough volume for anyone who knows Louis to flit their eyes over curiously.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy had been in the midst of casual conversation with other students before class should begin, the boy sat on one of the tables and turning towards Louis with almost incredulous eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Huh?” Niall asks, eyes holding huge amounts of quandary as he slides down from the table and gives a quickly approaching Louis his attention.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All Louis does once he reaches him is push at one of his shoulders harshly, Niall responding in doing the overdramatic thing of rubbing his shoulder and proclaiming that it hurt.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What the fuck?” Louis asks tiredly, flailing his hands out and fixing a displeased expression at the boy.“Why did you tell Harry that he wasn’t my type?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Niall is silent for only a second, the pain from the push having worn off as he looks around a bit, as though seeking for some sort of guidance.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“…is that not what you said?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, but you weren’t supposed to <em>tell</em> him,” Louis responds, curling his fingers at the boy.“Why would you even open your mouth about me to him?!”At this point he actually is struggling not to slide into an actual yell, the frustration threatening to overtake him.He instead channels that frustration into stepping forth and bunching the boy’s shirt at the shoulder with desperation.“I<em> told</em> you I didn’t want this to be a <em>whole thing</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Because,”</em> Niall begins forcefully, as though fed up with the dramatics.“He practically <em>bullied</em> the answer out of me!Kinda like how you’re doing right now?”He looks pointedly at where Louis is still holding a chunk of his shirt, silent realization spreading across Louis’ face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis makes a point to release the boy’s shirt and pat at the fabric carefully, taking a step back and becoming in tune with his emotions again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I apologize,” Louis responds, clasping his hands in front of himself.“What <em>answer</em> was he bullying you about?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I dunno, how about <em>Why didn’t Louis like kissing me? Does he like me or not?What do you know?What the FUCK do you know?” </em>Niall explains mockingly, Louis’ eyebrows shooting up as he listens.“So naturally—since obviously, <em>I </em>don’t know what the fuck goes through your mind as to why you wouldn’t wanna kiss him—I told him the only thing I could think of that made a little sense.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis keeps his mouth closed, simply adjusting his glasses upon his nose bridge with furrowed brows and taking this information in.It’s quite a lot of information, is what it is.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So…” comes Niall’s voice, quieter now and innocent.“You like him now?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, sorta,” Louis replies in an almost whine, feeling sorry for himself.“But I’m pretty sure he’s not even into me anymore, so.”Louis waves the situation off, taking another step back from Niall.“So it doesn’t really matter now.It’s alright.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He crosses his arms, toying with the fabric of the elbows at either side and avoiding the displeased eyes Niall is one hundred percent giving him right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis,” Niall starts bluntly, reaching out and slapping a heavy hand to rest against the boy’s shoulder.“Seriously?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So you’re just not gonna fight for it?Like even a little bit?” Niall asks exasperatedly.“Don’t you wanna experience a passionate, romantic escapade?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t <em>fight </em>for things, Niall,” Louis tells the boy, now crossing his arms more firmly and hardening his hopeless facial expression.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Exactly.Which is why your life can get so routine, and <em>boring”—</em>Niall uses air quotes, quickly continuing before Louis can voice his offense—“words that came from <em>your </em>mouth.Not mine.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, now I’ve realized it’s not <em>boring, </em>and that it’s actually the routine and organization that’s keeping me <em>sane</em>,” Louis replies emphatically.“Look at me.I’m a <em>mess</em>.You know I haven’t even <em>had</em> my honeydew smoothie today, just because the only thing I wanted to do was attack you?”Louis presses a hand to his forehead, just stretched to his limits with emotional stress and anger and frustration, all emotions of which were pretty much nonexistent to him before this notorious <em>Harry Styles.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Gee, I wonder how you’ll survive.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis doesn’t even want to grant any more energy to Niall’s forward hostility, and the way he’s thinking he’s right about everything, because he has no idea why the boy is suddenly wanting to be a voice of reason <em>now,</em> and the fun guy who doesn’t take anything seriously every <em>other</em> time. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So he just grants the boy mumbled parting words with his palm against his head and turns to drag himself out of this room, knowing there’s nothing else he can do about the situation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s simply a narrowly missed opportunity.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ walking with his head up and his feet purposeful, just having closed the fence to the soccer field behind him and headed towards the grass.He’s prepared himself for whatever scenario he may walk into.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s here.The usual set up around him, both legs crossed underneath him as he seems to be tracing something in a textbook.Those things are normal sights to see when coming across Harry, but what seems to be new today are the big, cushiony headphones around his head and upon his ears as he looks down, doodles, and bobs his head just faintly.He’s also swimming in a pale, short sleeved Hawaiian shirt that’s quite pleasing to Louis’ eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ half contemplating acknowledging the boy with maybe a wave or a nod or a hi, but he decides against it once he actually <em>sees</em> Harry notice him out of the corner of his eye, before going back to peacefully doodling and head bobbing, leaving Louis to lower his barely raised hand and continue on across the grass, towards his main spot.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then he turns around in a change of plans, walking directly towards the boy and not being able to hold his tongue.Harry takes notice of his approach of course, since the boy is walking right at him, and soon he’s peering up at him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Why </em>are you acting like this?” Louis asks without holding back helplessness, palm up and gestured toward the boy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Now</em> Harry’s pushing one of the cushions away from his ear, his doodling coming to a pause.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Huh?” he asks, clearly having been unable to hear what’s been said to him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis fixes his lips to maybe repeat it again, but quickly discovers he may have just been granted a split second of purposeful intervention.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Louis just presses his finger against the bridge of his glasses, clears his throat, and plants a perfect grin on his face. “Nothing.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He turns right around, not lingering his gaze on Harry’s increasingly blank and confused expression.Back towards where he <em>should’ve </em>been going in the first place, without another word.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re gonna what?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s after one of their pre-game study binges, the boys having kept the study group much smaller this time around, only consisting of a few of the members of the team and no extras, Louis having come up with the idea himself to limit distractions (but also to limit the possibility of certain <em>people </em>showing up with certain <em>boy toys </em>on their arms and giving Louis a physically painful heartache, of course).It didn’t matter anyway, because Harry never showed up anyhow (Louis’ also not sure if anyone invited him though, since he might’ve been deemed as a distraction, what with his weed and his off task humor and everything). </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So now it’s after they’ve gotten through a miracle of actually finishing everything they needed to cram before tomorrow’s match, the boys having had enough time to even hit up <em>Pritza’s Pizza</em> afterward, just about eight of them, and their pepperoni slices from the buffet, and lounging area with the nineties inspired patterned couches that Lous’ always loved.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The reason Louis’ just said “you’re gonna what”, is because just as he’d been coming over to crash on the armchair and squeeze right in next to Niall with his paper plate of cheese pizza in tow, Zayn had been mid conversation with a lot of the boys, having said “think I’m gonna experiment with guys”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Zayn hadn’t offered much of a defensive reaction to Louis, which is in character for the unperturbed, easygoing boy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He shrugs one shoulder, repeating it with his head rested back against the loveseat, squeezing bell pepper juice onto his tongue.“Think I’m gonna experiment with guys.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Soon this whole team’s gonna be swinging that way,” James teases, although he’s probably too high to even fully grasp the reality of what Zayn’s saying. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This actually might be the case with many of them, mostly everyone taking it in with a shrug or a wave of their hand or a furrowing of their brows as though they’re amused out how ridiculous Zayn’s being, like he may even be lying.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Harry’s not actually a <em>player</em> on the team, so he doesn’t count.So far we only have one, which is quite a distance from the <em>whole team,</em>” Niall’s saying next to Louis, Louis not even granting this boy attention as he’s training himself to become nonreactive to the mentioning of that boy’s name.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Byron is chiming in as he sits upon the table next to their open large box of breadsticks.“I bet Harry <em>would</em> be happy to hear that though, Zayn.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And great.Now Louis’ attention is successfully snatched, and he now has no choice but to become reactive.He’s subtle with it, however, his eyes just shooting over to Byron as the boy is stifling a stupid grin and doing the immature thing of wriggling his eyebrows at Zayn, which then brings Louis to shoot his eyes over to Zayn.The brown eyed boy is looking like he’s not entirely picking up on it, his head tilted and dubious.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He thinks you’re cute,” Byron continues, once he’s realized Zayn isn’t getting it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Zayn’s reaction isn’t even half of what Louis thinks it should be, the boy only furrowing his brows with genuine puzzlement as he goes back to squeezing pepper juice into his mouth.“Who wouldn’t?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Love</em> that modesty, fellow captain,” Louis says, ignoring the eyes Niall’s giving him in his peripheral.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But I <em>have</em> heard he’s…helpful in that aspect,” Zayn’s continuing, bringing his head back upright and appearing to actually think about it this time around, his fingers splaying over the bare skin over the holes in the knees of his jeans.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He literally used to charge guys for it in high school,” Niall adds with a bit of a chuckle, Louis keeping it hidden when he uses the arm he has squeezed between the both of them to lightly pinch the boy’s side, just so he can stop saying things and continuing to have He Who Shall Not Be Named a part of this conversation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>“</em>Zayn, this is<em>…”</em> Louis begins, his voice way too determined and certain once he’s speaking, ignoring the hurt expression Niall’s giving him.“…interesting.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  Cool to see you branching out</span>.And...with whoever you choose, is fine.”Louis continues, basically trying to force the humor and non seriousness into everything as he grins crookedly at the boy, although his eyes remain somewhat dark.“You’re not actually going to…like with—actually...what made you just.All of a sudden?”He gestures uselessly in the air with his hands, as though this whole “experiment” notion has been conjured up right out of thin air.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because I don’t wanna die not having done it, dude,” Zayn’s replying simply, leaning forth and setting his elbows upon his knees.“What if I’m like, missing out, or something.I would just like to know, you know?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And the mellow sincerity of his tone, paired with his starry eyes lidded and focused on Louis, unaware of the inner turmoil that’s building inside him, does nothing but tell Louis that he really means this.Zayn isn’t one to just say things he doesn’t mean anyway, and he’s also always been that person who’s down for anything.And Louis genuinely isn’t bothered by the prospect of him wanting to experiment.It’s not that.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There probably isn't even a possibility that the <em>two of them</em> will even align in that way anyway, because Zayn <em>had</em> been one of the few people who had no idea of who Harry was when he’d first popped up, just like Louis.Louis just needs to chill right now, and not think it into existence.  The only <em>real, existing </em>thing right now is the fact that Louis finds himself absolutely appalled at the thought of it, more than he thought he'd be since he'd called off this whole Harry Fiasco and declared it a bust anyway.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But <em>no</em>.  Just the possibility of Harry even giving up and searching elsewhere—<em>no</em>.  And Louis' just now feeling that surge of <em>feeling</em>, burying itself right in his gut in the middle of this pizza place.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, um, of course, if you wanna experiment with Harry you would have to make sure it’s alright with Louis first,” Garrell starts, sitting up and gesturing towards the boy.Once Louis looks over to him, it’s clear that it was just a (bad) joke as his words fade into giggles.He’s joined in with the laughter of others, all but Niall and Zayn, Niall because he just <em>knows</em>, and Zayn because of what he says afterward.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“C’mon guys, <em>stop</em> with that.He’s already told you he’s not into the guy for goodness’ sake,” Zayn retorts, just a smidgen of passion to it.“I’m pretty sure it’s offensive at this point.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, don’t worry Zayn,” Louis’ responding, picking at the crust of the pizza in his plate and trying not to rip the bread apart.“They’ll be wanting to apologize when they’re running extra miles at practice, isn’t that right?”</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis likes Harry.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s not like this is a sudden, amazing <em>revelation </em>or anything of the sort, because Louis’ pretty sure he’s admitted it to himself before.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Louis <em>really</em> likes Harry.Like, he might not be able to let him get away without at least trying, type of stuff. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he certainly won’t let anyone else get to him before he does. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So that’s why he’s sitting in his car right now, in the parking lot outside of his apartment complex, some buildings down from where he remembered Harry’s to be.It’s no wonder they’ve never realized they both live here; Louis’ building is completely opposite from his, and he also has no idea what the boy drives.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Nevertheless, Louis needs a reason to go to the boy’s place.Needs something to just pop up out of thin air and grant him the rationale to knock on that boy’s front door.Because his impulsivity is <em>booming </em>right now, and he doesn’t want to wait around for it to wear off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s when Louis’ busying himself with pulling his hoodie on over his head and tugging the strings so that it’s tight around his hidden face, and then releasing himself, and then toying with the radio and overall being a mess, that he finds his reason.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it comes in the form of a blue pen in the passenger seat.Similar to the ones Louis’ seen Harry doodling in his textbooks with on some occasions.Just sitting there, extremely close to having slid into the crevices of the seat and disappearing forever.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You left this.In my car.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s at this exact moment that Louis becomes aware of how extremely dumb this is, the pen uselessly held out toward the boy who has opened the door to him—although, Louis doesn’t even know if that could be accurate, because the boy’s only sort of peeked a portion of his body out through a door that’s probably thirty percent open.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s got on these loose, plaid pajama pants, and this faded green t-shirt that’s so old that whatever had originally been printed on it is indecipherable and patchy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um…thanks,” Harry replies, after having just blinked at the pen for a never ending moment, taking it from the boy and already stepping back on his heel.“Bye.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then just like that, the door is closed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The door is <em>freaking </em>closed. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And here Louis is just staring it, wondering if these are another one of those moments of purposeful intervention, and he’s actually meant to use this opportunity to leave the boy alone and go home to his own apartment to avoid further embarrassment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But also…maybe this moment is a challenge.Maybe <em>all </em>those moments have been challenges.To see if Louis would actually push the envelope just a bit, power through it confidently and voice himself so there’s no gray area.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Louis knocks again, not having moved from his standing spot even an inch.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Harry’s opening the door again, it’s a bit more hesitant as his head peeks into view, as though he’s not quite sure what’s gotten into Louis, or he’s just now realizing he may be a psychopath.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you wanna go on a date with me?” Louis asks, pinching his fingers together in front of his chest. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As desperate and stressed as he’s feeling, he hopes a minuscule grin shows enough on his face as they hold eyes.Harry’s holding the door at that same percentage, although slowly, his eyes are sliding into something more innocently thrown, flashing Louis back to the wondrous wideness they used to have.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Harry responds on an exhale, the dimple on his right cheek appearing only briefly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even though Harry had only grinned a tiny bit, Louis takes that as a breather to let his grin form right back, not being able to hold back the brightness of his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Cool.I’ll pick you up Friday around seven?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s nodding with parted lips, taking a while to get the actual words out.“Sure, yeah…okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright.Cool,” Louis responds, forming two thumbs up with his fingers.“And…I already said that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, you did,” Harry responds, eyes childlike and lips hiding a smile.“So uhm…yeah—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah I’ll see you,” Louis’ telling him, stepping back on his feet and trying not to run out of luck with how smoothly this exchange had been going.“I mean, <em>before</em> then of course, because practice, the match, and all that—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But Friday, for the date,” Harry clarifies for him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, that is when I will <em>especially </em>see you,” Louis replies, before stuffing his fumbling hands in the pockets of his hoodie.“So.See you, Harry,” he’s saying on his backward departure, Harry lifting up a hand in response as he’s stepping back into his apartment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See you, Louis.”</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s that for?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ smile falters just a little bit, eyes shifting between the single red tulip in his hands and the green eyes of the boy in front of him.And Harry’s serious.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s…it’s supposed—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Oh</em>, oh my god, I’m an idiot,” Harry’s saying, slapping a hand against his face and bringing the laughter right back to Louis’ lips.“Sorry, I’ve just literally never been given flowers before.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I’m pretty sure a lot of people don’t take you for that kinda guy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s pausing where he’s just taken the flower from the boy, eyes narrowing to a slight degree, although there’s humor to the sparkle of them.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is that supposed to be a quip, Tomlinson?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis shrugs with curved lips, sliding his hands into the pockets of his loose, khaki slacks.“It’s whatever you want it to be, Styles.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s a moment spent of small laughter during the quiet nighttime, the only thing other than them that’s heard being the soul music being blasted in one of the apartment suites.Louis isn’t shy in using this moment to also run polite, grinning eyes down the boy’s outfit only briefly as he steps back, just taking in the oversized crewneck he’s wearing, tucked into baggy thrift jeans, with one of his chaotic, black scarves right in his hair.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ literally wearing a collared shirt under a sweater, the both of them stitched to be attached that way by his grandmother, and a large, black chore jacket over <em>that, </em>so he definitely loses to Harry in the department of looking cool today.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Should I…” Harry starts, pointing over his shoulder and shifting back onto his heel, although his apartment door is closed right behind him.“Like put it in water, or—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, you can—let’s see, just—“ Louis begins, taking the flower from the boy, simply not wanting to wait any longer before starting their date.He places the flower behind the boy’s right ear, tucks it in there nicely and admires how perfectly it complements his curly auburn hair.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Harry is full on <em>blushing </em>right now.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Louis will let it slide.Won’t tease him about it <em>just </em>yet.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I guess <em>now</em> I somewhat match the attire you’ve gone for,” Harry says instead of feeding into anything that would probably make him blush more.“Where are we going tonight, your highness?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis drops his mouth open in happy offense, Harry not holding back his chuckle as they finally start walking, side by side, although probably a few inches further than they need to be from each other.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I am <em>not</em> dressed fancy.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis, I literally wouldn’t be surprised if you were taking me to a cousin’s wedding right now or something.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I will let that one slide,” Louis responds as they’re embarking down the steps.“And honestly?I’d kind of thought I’d rely on the power of spontaneous decisions for today’s date.It’d seemed like a good idea…”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you kidding?That’s an awesome idea,” Harry’s replying, bringing the sunshine back to Louis’ face right when he’d been starting to doubt himself.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So it’s settled.Louis will simply follow the night wherever it takes him.And hopefully wherever it takes him will result in them having had a fun night, void of stress, and confusion, and unsaid bullshit.Louis isn’t even asking for much honestly.Just a good date.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But he honestly might not even get that.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not when, once they’re both in Louis’ car, the dumb thing won’t start up.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It does this from time to time,” Louis explains, hand on the key after he’d just failed at starting it up twice.“You just have to give it a few tries.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Leave it to his car to let him down <em>today</em> of all days.Louis is doing his best to hold the curses in his mouth as he continues to try and twist the stupid thing on, knowing there can’t be any <em>date</em> if they can’t even fucking <em>drive</em> anywhere.He eventually does let those curses out after the car doesn’t start for a record number of times, Louis not being able to stop himself from shaking the steering wheel like he wants to pull it off and muttering “you have <em>one</em> job”.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know a guy who can jump it, if you need that,” Harry’s saying softly, bringing Louis right out of his vexed, borderline destructive state as he looks toward Harry.“He’s kinda weird though.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’d hate for our date to start off with loud, vrooming vehicles, the smell of car oil, and creepy men,” Louis replies, Harry blowing an entertained chuckle into the atmosphere of the car.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I guess we could walk,” Harry suggests, looking out towards the window, probably trying to weigh out how torturous that would be.“But it really depends on where we’re going.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See <em>that’s </em>where a planned, organized date would’ve came in handy.You know, like a <em>normal </em>person,” Louis self-scolds, about half a second away from calling it off and postponing, which he’s sure would be okay.Of course Harry would be fine with it, but Louis just doesn’t want to.He really just wants this now, and—</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I actually just remembered I have a bike in my trunk,” Louis’ saying, sitting up way too hopefully and meeting eyes with Harry, the moonlight reflected in the boy’s irises.Louis quickly gestures out toward the boy, simmering and being thoughtful.“But only if you’re comfortable, of course.Because we’d both have to like…ride on it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s right dimple is showing as the boy’s stretching his lips to one side, as though pretending to think about it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m fine with that,” Harry replies eventually, before putting a finger in the air.“But only if I’m the one driving it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis shakes his head as he moves to open his door with a laugh, not even wanting the boy to elaborate on why that’s such a dealbreaker for him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So they actually end up on Louis’ bicycle that he hasn’t touched since freshman year, in all its black, tall excellence, so pristine and ready to be ridden that Louis almost can’t believe he’d taken it for granted all this time.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s stood on the back of it, arms around Harry’s waist <em>only</em> because they quite literally have to be or else he’ll fall off, and Harry riding into the night and along the sidewalks of the city by their campus.Louis is fairly certain the boy probably even knows how to ride a bike better than him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At first it’s quite a peaceful time of just gently perusing, Louis secretly enjoying the way the breeze moves little tufts of Harry’s hair into Louis’ face, secretly admiring the fact that he’s just now discovered that the boy hums <em>very</em> softly under his breath when he’s concentrating.For a second, Louis forgets that they’re even supposed to be finding something to do, simply just taking joy out of this serene cruise.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Only when Harry’s name is faintly called whilst they’re rolling upon the parks and college student chill spots near campus, is when Louis is brought out of his trance, not even realizing he’d kind of rested his head on the boy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Both Louis and Harry turn their heads toward the call of the boy’s name, only to find a few guys, seeming to be ordering at some outside dining area of a burger place, having seen the boy and waving at him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” Harry offers them back, although he’s quickly spoken on top of when one of the guys are going “You’ve got anything for us?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nope,” Harry’s replying quite speedily, shaking his head and already looking back forward as he pedals. “Not to—no.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come <em>on</em>, bro!”It’s exclaimed by one of the guys with such anguish, such disappointment, that it actually sparks something in Louis, especially as all Harry does is shake his head some more and continue to pedal forth, soon out of the hearing distance of those boys.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They seemed fun,” Louis says to him.“You didn’t wanna stop and do burgers with them?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They’re always up to no good,” Harry replies easily, the wind kicking through his hair as he’s moving towards the center of the vacant road, Louis beginning to have that same sense of being in the “middle of everything” as he does on the soccer field.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They come across more early night life as they progress, Harry pedaling much more slowly now as they’re actually trying to look at things around them.At this point, honestly, Louis just wants to do <em>something</em>.Of course, he’d be fine with riding around on this bike all night, but he’s sure that’s inconsiderate of Harry and his probably aching thighs.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Poetry slam and dessert night,” Harry’s saying, Louis finding that he’s simply reading off of a sign in front of one of the connected buildings, where a few people loiter outside, smoke cigarettes, and take pictures with whatever famous musician is painted on the outside brick of the building.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dessert sounds good,” Louis’ replying, shrugging one shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Doesn’t it?” Harry responds with a chuckle, before veering towards the side in order to bring them toa stop.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once they’ve hopped off, Harry’s clearly at a loss with what to do with the bicycle, since there’s clearly no place to lock it up or anything, most of everyone in this century preferring to get by with cars, or motorcycles, if anything.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sure it’ll be fine against the wall,” Louis tells him, prompting Harry to do just that as he rolls the bicycle over.Louis figures the area they’re in, just a bit of a walk away from the “poetry slam” they spotted, is empty of people and secluded enough that his bicycle should be good.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The event is a free for all, they come to find out, and there actually <em>are</em> a lot of desserts, decorated at a giant, long table against the back wall of the venue, from different poet societies or something, available for whoever to eat.Which is good, because that was honestly the part Louis cared most about.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s obvious that Harry’s really enthusiastic about the dessert too, because it isn’t long before they’re both filling their paper plates with different danishes, creme puffs, about three types of brownies, peach cobbler, and things that they both can’t even quite identify, but look pink and delicious.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my <em>god</em>.That’s so good,” Harry’s saying through a somewhat full mouth once he’s taken a bite out of the foreign, pink thing that he’d gotten for himself, the both of them still situated by the desserts while nonsense spoken word about traffic lights is spoken on a mic in the background of everything. He still has more of it in his hand as he turns to Louis, holding it towards him.“Wanna try?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure,” Louis replies, but he doesn’t get to lift a hand to take it from the boy like he’d been about to, because Harry’s bringing it to his lips, Louis kind of moving on autopilot when he parts his lips and lets the pastry in.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t even know how to concentrate on the taste of it right now after that’s happened, just knowing that it’s sweet and <em>good</em> as he chews through a full mouth and wipes his sleeve on the corner of his lips.Both of their grins are growing as they’re in agreement of how tasty it is.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That <em>is</em> good,” Louis responds.“Good to know I can trust your tastebuds.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s clearly about to reply, before they’re so beautifully interrupted by one of the event coordinators, or dessert table monitors, or whatever, behind the table.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Part of tonight is actually about listening to the poetry too,” she says, her eyes almost unable to be seen under the beanie that squishes down her messy, long hair.“Not just scarfing down the desserts.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ the first to let out a hurried polite, “we understand, sorry”, but it’s right around the same time that Harry’s going “says who?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ shooting his eyes to the boy, not entirely crossed, but more just a bit thrown and not knowing why he’d want to escalate anything with random people in some artsy fartsy event they weren't even aware of before today.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Says the people who put this thing together.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, well, um,” Harry begins, tucking his hands in his jeans pockets (meaning this conversation is just getting started) as he leans forth a bit to squint his eyes at the name tag that’s stuck to the girl’s collared shirt.“Mindy, I don’t think you quite understand.How I process art.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ eyes are now shifting between Harry and the girl, sort of a painful cordiality to his grin since he literally doesn’t know what direction this is about to go in.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See, I tend to get <em>so</em> transformed and moved by poetry slams, that I simply <em>cannot</em> enjoy it up close.I can turn into a mess of sobbing and epiphanies and sometimes the occasional jumping onto the stage and tackling the performer with a hug—ask him, he’s <em>seen </em>it,” Harry explains, finishing off by placing an arm around Louis.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ nerves are only heard a little bit in his chuckle, although he makes himself comfortable in Harry’s side as the boy keeps an arm around his shoulder.“I, uh…<em>yes</em>, I have.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So I do apologize, but this is a coping mechanism Mindy,” Harry continues, Louis nodding towards the girl with hope that maybe she’ll buy it, even though Louis can’t decipher anything of her consistent facial expression.“I’m just trying to stay somewhere <em>safe</em>, where my emotions will be in check so as not to disrupt the event.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The girl is pretty emotionless on the other side of the table opposite them, and she’s looking as though Harry’s over-the-top monologue drained whatever bit of soul she had left in her for tonight.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And this is confirmed when she simply goes “whatever, do what you want”, before moving over to tend to other attendees of the event who are eyeing pastries and doing the <em>opposite </em>of Louis and Harry, where they’re not sure if they are allowed to help themselves to some or not.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How in the world do I know you, Harry?” is the first thing Louis’ saying, pulling away from the boy and shoving his shoulder (lightly, of course), while not being able to keep the delight off of his face.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If there’s anything I’m good at, it’s annoying people into leaving me alone,” Harry replies with, chin up and looking proud of himself, which just makes Louis all the more inclined to admire him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But um—“ Louis starts, scratching at the side of his neck with one hand and holding his paper plate stacked with pastries in the other.“We of course still can…actually like. Watch the show, of course.”His eyes are seeking out Harry’s reaction, Harry’s eyes blinking a bit out of rhythm as he’d been in the midst of biting into a chocolate roll.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh yeah,” Harry agrees, although reluctantly as he looks toward the crowd around the stage, the main person above and at the center of all of it, fists moving passionately as he’s screaming the word “suitcase” over and over, for whatever reason.“Duh, ’s why we came here.”There’s something just slightly unconvincing about his tone, Louis picking up on it and turning back towards the boy, right when he’d been about to lead the way toward the stage area.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What, you don’t like spoken word poetry?” Louis asks innocently.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um…” Harry begins, lifting his plate uselessly for lack of any better gesture.“It can be stimulating.Um…really appealing to the advanced mind—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You hate poetry slams, don’t you,” Louis says, head tilting at the boy.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s like Harry finally releases a breath once the words have left Louis’ mouth, Louis’ brows quirking up and his lips curving just a bit at each side.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god, <em>yes</em>,” Harry answers, as though he’d been holding it in.“But if you like it, then—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, dummy, I thought <em>you</em> liked it!” Louis says, pressing a tender hand to the boy’s chest and having to raise his voice due to the sudden crowd applause.“I was just excited about the desserts.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Me</em> <em>too!” </em>Harry replies, Louis now physically not being able to wipe the smiley look from his face as they’re both laughing and out of tune with all the background noise that’s going on. “It’s just a bunch of nonsense words strung together, and people somehow find it deep and moving.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, that’s usually the art crowd for you,” Louis says with a sigh, rotating on his feet in order to look toward the spectacle now, the last speaker having gotten done and the host, or emcee, or whatever they’d like to be called, is taking the center stage again, with his knit ashtray sweater, his pants that look like they’re made of sandpaper, and his easygoing brown sandals that appear as though they’ve lasted through the eighties.“I love them, even though I may not understand them.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>“No one understands me</em> is their whole point though, isn’t it?” Harry jokes, the both of them looking towards the stage now, thoroughly entertained.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ just about to continue this fluffy moment of back and forth antics before his parted lips are stopped mid-movement, only in reaction to the next person who walks up amidst the cheer, and after Louis and Harry were clearly making too many jokes to hear his name being called.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s Zayn, which fittingly Louis finds hilariously ridiculous as he pats at Harry’s arm with widened eyes as though it’s Christmas morning.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s freaking <em>Zayn</em>,” Louis’ saying, only now realizing he’s gripping the boy’s arm and letting go, hearing Harry’s equally unbelieving laughter right next to him.“You don’t know him that well, but this is literally the <em>exact</em> kinda place I’d expect to see him at.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re too far from the stage to be able to hear anything Zayn’s actually saying, the boy speaking softly to the crowd like he’s at a sleepover or something, taking a break every now and then to flick on the small lighter he has in his right hand.It’s quite refreshing to see him in his element, huge jacket having gaping holes in the sleeves that Louis doesn’t understand, and his cargo pants tucking into his giant, winter looking boots.Even as he’s up there, probably performing prose about nature and all its great mysteries, he looks pretty hot, actually.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Which then <em>instantly </em>gets Louis to remember when Byron had claimed that Harry’d thought he was cute.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Which sends Louis’ gaze to shoot to Harry, looking behind his shoulder at the boy without a reason.Just to check, really.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry quirks an eyebrow at him, as though Louis might’ve asked a question and he hadn’t heard.It doesn’t look like there’s any amount of hidden, burning desire and lust to him right now—actually, it’d even looked like he’d been a bit zoned out of the moment, and Louis had brought him back.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um, nothing,” Louis responds, pushing out a laugh.“This whole thing is just really funny.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It is, it is,” Harry agrees, laughter evolving more towards the nervous side as he rocks on his feet a bit.“He’s definitely, uh…he’s—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re interrupted by that same round of abrupt applause again, Louis turning back to look towards the stage to find that the boy’s already waving a lazy hand at all his admirers as he drags his feet to exit stage left.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wow, that was fast,” Louis says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, we didn’t even get a chance to bag on it,” Harry’s commenting, seeming more in tune with the moment.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">An idea takes a hold of Louis’ mind within a second, the boy turning back to look at Harry again and raising hopeful eyebrows.“Wanna push our way to the front and poke fun at the different performers?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s eyes light up as though he thinks Louis is made just for him, the sight of it bringing Louis to smile some more.“Yes—<em>after</em> we fill our plates with desserts one more time, of course.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Duh,” Louis replies, immediately reaching for the boy’s wrist and the both of them way too quick and restless about getting a kick out of tonight, that of course, they’re immediately met with a mishap.And it comes in the form of Harry having immediately ran into a guy upon turning back towards the desserts with Louis, and now having a mess of mini molten lava cakes the guy had been carrying on a tray, smashed right into his shirt.There’s warm chocolatey liquid seeping inside and out down the front of it, whipped cream and chocolate cake smothered over it for good measure after the guy had tried and failed at keeping the tray from falling to the ground.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ first concern isn’t the obvious <em>where were the molten lava cakes all this time</em>, but the simple fact that Harry’s an absolute mess, with dessert decorating his chin and absolutely saturating his shirt as several heads have been turned.This has all happened to the tune of the guy apologizing excessively and asking what he can do to help, before deciding on rushing out to get a towel or something.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Trying to figure out where to go from here,” Harry’s saying, his hands still carefully out in front of him, just as they’d been since the moment he’d gotten dumped upon.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think we should go to the bathroom,” Louis decides, gently grabbing just a tiny fabric of the boy’s arm (he doesn’t want to get messy of course), and leading the way.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*</p>
<p class="p2"> </p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Contrary to the fact that absolutely nothing that happened in the last ten minutes was their fault, they get kicked out once Harry’s gotten somewhat cleaned up in the bathroom <em>and</em> had no choice but to use the sink to completely submerge his shirt in water since it was absolutely soiled (and now he’s settled on, um… just leaving his shirt off).Mindy had actually made a reappearance in order to claim they had already been causing problems earlier and this is just the result of their antics, bringing most of the event leaders to a consensus that they should be kicked out.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So now they’re outside of the venue. Harry’s shirtless with folded arms over his chest in order to keep the warmth in since the night is getting chilly, shirt slung over his shoulder since he’s waiting for it to be dry <em>enough </em>not to freeze his ass off when he puts it on. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Louis’ not understanding why <em>he</em> had to be the one to achieve the world record of worst date ever.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ suddenly moving to shrug his black chore jacket off, arm after arm and already shaking his head when Harry’s insisting that he doesn’t have to.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Listen, I’m not gonna stand here wearing three layers while you freeze to death,” Louis tells him, taking the shirt from his shoulder, and holding the jacket out in position to get it around him.“I’m an <em>anti-capitalist</em>, you know.Plus this jacket’s already huge on me anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s finally obliging, getting his arms into the holes with the help of Louis.“Thank you for your kindness, and your big words.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis grins at him with tight lips, figuring he’ll <em>have</em> to eventually properly educate Harry on the different types of economic systems—it’s mandatory.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He definitely notices how Harry doesn’t do up the buttons or zipper down the middle of the jacket, just sort of leaving the few inches wide sliver of his chest and torso bare and open to anyone who wants to see it.Including Louis.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll just…put this here,” Louis says, blinking himself awake and stepping forth in order to get the drenched shirt into the pocket of the jacket Harry’s wearing.Yes, it does give him a brief, up close view of Harry’s chest, quite ethereal under the night sky and the shadows, but no, Louis will not dwell on it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s only when he’s stepping back does he realize that Harry’s said something.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hm?” Louis asks, stuffing his hands into his own pockets and forcing his eyes up to meet the boy’s.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where to now?” Harry asks, completely oblivious to the way Louis’ mind is twisting and turning and stumbling over its own shoelace.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um, I guess we’ll just have to go back over to my trusty bike,” Louis begins, pointing behind himself and turning to look towards the brick they’d left it by.“And see what else we can—oh god.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t even wait around for Harry’s sound of question before he’s stalking over, towards the area further down the brick wall where they’d left the bike.No one’s loitering near just like before, and everything about the place is exactly the same.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Except there’s no fucking <em>bike</em>.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What the <em>fuck</em>?” Louis asks incredulously, palms ` against the brick, as though maybe he’ll feel the vibrations of where the <em>fuck </em>the thing might’ve gone if he touches it enough.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck, man,” Harry’s saying as he’s walking up, eyes flittering around, although they both know it’s futile.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No—you know what?It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s <em>fine</em>,” Louis says, running a hand down his face and attempting to disregard the situation for the sake of not solidifying the fact that he’s conducted a disastrous date.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know I can get someone to find who took it and kick their ass, right?” Harry asks, his face almost comically serious, since Louis had been thinking he might’ve been joking.The boy actually looks half a second away from reaching into his pants pocket for his phone and dialing said person.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well don’t you have a person for just about everything,” Louis says, stepping towards him.“But no, it’s fine, I’ll just…I’ll just get my grandpa to construct it for me again.From the grave.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s flown out of his mouth as a joke, Louis actually laughing along with his words, since this is sort of his coping mechanism right now, but it’s clear Harry’s definitely deflating with his sad eyes and slightly parted, downward lips.This immediately brings Louis to shake his head hurriedly and reach out a hand to hold the boy’s right arm.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, it’s fine—let’s um, let’s explore some more, yeah, let’s do <em>that</em>.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although it takes a moment, Harry’s nodding along with him, and Louis’ clasping his hands together before turning around and starting on their journey of nighttime exploration.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know this cool outside area a few blocks down,” Harry continues, coming in next to Louis whilst their steps fall in sync.“It’s mostly for skateboarders, photography, spray painting, stuff like that.But around this time it’s super peaceful.So we can just like look at all the cool graffiti and stuff.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sounds awesome,” Louis replies, actually being truthful, but also just wanting to comply with anything the boy wishes, in order to make up for this poorly executed date.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So they continue their walk since Harry’d mentioned they’d fall upon it at their path, and when the area is coming into view, Louis actually hears the problem before he sees the problem. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It comes in the form of tons of joyous, yelling voices, right underneath groovy, constant music that fills the outside air, and this is followed by Louis seeing that the place is actually filled to the brim with everyone donned in roller skates, and apparently some skate night is currently going down.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god, Louis?” </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The question gets Louis to turn his eyes before he can really even react to the spectacle, finding Zoey (one of the star members of the gardening club, truly an angel), coming up—or <em>rolling</em> up, with what looks like her boyfriend in tow and also in roller skates, their hands attached.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He offers her his greetings and the formality of a warm hug, and even introduces Harry right next to him, although he was very close to forgetting to do that.He just introduces him as Harry, nothing more, nothing less, so as not to run out of any more luck tonight.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did you come out to skate tonight?” she asks, bordering on excited, and Louis feeling quite flattered.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I actually, uh…” Louis scratches behind his head, looking towards the commotion again, colorful lights dancing through the darkness and upbeat music at a steady, reasonable volume.“Didn’t even know this was happening.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, the student council conducted it!” she adds.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s nodding once, hands in the pockets of the jacket.“Ah.<em>That’s </em>why no one knew about it.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis continues speaking before Zoey’s face can shift into more innocent confusion, not knowing if he loves or hates the fact that Harry says what’s on people’s minds, even though it’s often informal to voice out loud.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I would, but um…I don’t have any skates,” Louis replies with a simple shrug.“Sucks.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, they’re offering rentals for free at the booth over there,” she tells him, pointing with an extended arm over to an area Louis doesn’t even look toward.“It looks like you and Harry could have a lot of fun.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis looks toward Harry for direction, even though honestly, this is the last thing he wants to do, especially since they both were unaware this place was going to be occupied.He kind of has a fear of going off balance due to forces he can’t control.He’s actually just now realizing that’s probably why he hadn’t taken advantage of his bicycle a lot.Bottom line is, he can’t roller skate to save his life.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sure, yeah,” Harry’s replying, blinking over at the roller skaters some more.“We were looking for something to do anyway, and I used to roller skate lots in high school.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay then,” Louis says, forcing a small grin out as Zoey’s waving them off and rolling away with her boyfriend at her side, claiming she’ll see them on the concrete with everyone else.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis faces toward where Zoey had pointed out the rental booth is, pulling at his ear just a smidge and picturing how much of an idiot he’s going to look like when he can’t stand in skates.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shall we?” Louis asks after a moment, looking back at Harry and gesturing forth.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry flashes a nice grin back at him, dimples dark and pretty as he replies “we shall”.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis tries his best to stall once they’ve gotten up to the booth, first claiming that he needs a size nine, knowing it’s too small.Then he’s marching right back up to the booth in order to claim it’s too small and that he actually needs a size ten.Then he wastes more time questioning them on whether they have a size ten and a half, which they don’t.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re on the bench on the outskirts of everything as they’re putting the heavy skates on, not a single other soul lingering near them as everyone has opted to actually participate in this festive, school-monitored night of disco lights and gliding on wheels.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s up before Louis is, Louis having discreetly undone and retied his laces about three times by now in order to buy himself some time.Harry simply stands in place and looks down at him nice and patient, Louis tying his lace one last time and figuring he’ll have to face the music.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, let’s see,” Louis says once he’s done with that.He pushes the heel of his right foot against the ground, sending the wheel rotating endlessly.“Just wanna see if the wheels are functioning well, and…stuff.”He tests his left skate too, just for good measure.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis, I think they’re good,” Harry’s chuckling lightheartedly.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright,” Louis says, before using his palms in order to push himself up from the seat, already beginning to feel earth tilting on its axis.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis actually might have somehow acquired some spare source of luck, because when he’s standing, and kicking one foot against the ground, he’s mostly appearing to be a regular, stable person as he rolls just a few feet.He’s definitely staring down at his skates right now like they were handmade by Zeus.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He looks back over his shoulder toward where Harry’s still stood in the same place by the bleachers.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you coming?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s eyes are more fixed on Louis’ skates than anything else as he rubs his nose.“Um, actually I think I’m gonna just stand right here for a bit.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis leans on sheer willpower as he’s trying to execute a rotation on his skates, sort of just forcefully moving his shoulders and shins and making his skates move the same way as him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because, you know…” Harry begins, a ringlet of his hair now being wrapped around one of his fingers, the red tulip still gracefully tucked within his strands and behind his ear .“The air’s nice right here.It’s probably all crowded and stuffy over there with everyone.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At first, Louis is genuinely at a loss for what exactly Harry’s even talking about right now, Louis almost thinking this might be another one of those things he does that confuses Louis but then ends up being funny.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But within only a few seconds, Louis thinks he gets it as his lip curves upward on one side, his eyes almost crinkling with it.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You can’t roller skate, can you?” Louis says.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>No—</em>no, okay I <em>can</em> roller skate,” Harry begins matter-of-factly.“It’s just that it’s been a while.A long while.So I might have to…relearn.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis can’t help the way his own laughter runs over some of Harry’s words, the boy seeming as though he wants to look offended, even though there’s still this fluffy air to his amused eyes.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So if you don’t wanna be held back right now by a rusty skater, I understand,” Harry tells him, waving the boy off and moving his eyes down to his skates.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck, Harry,” Louis replies, their eyes meeting again as Harry’s head comes back up.“I can’t roller skate either.I thought <em>you</em> could, because you wanted to.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I thought <em>you</em> wanted to,” Harry’s saying, his tone bordering on dramatic as he finally musters up the courage to kick his feet just enough to bring him right in front of Louis, although he immediately reaches for either side of Louis’ arms upon arrival.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god.We have got to stop doing this with each other,” Louis says, curling his arms around to hold Harry in place.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You mean, the thing where we’re seeking each other’s approval, so we end up looking like idiots?” Harry’s asking.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Precisely,” Louis replies with a nod.“And actually, I’d probably be happy to skate—or <em>attempt </em>to skate, any other night, with, you know.<em>Other people</em> who aren’t you.You’re just the last person I wanted to bust my ass in front of.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m flattered,” Harry replies, pseudo-bashfully as he tucks his chin into his chest.“But I think that’s the problem.We shouldn’t be so <em>afraid </em>of looking like awkward baby deers in front of each other that we won’t let loose.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis ponders that for a moment, figuring the boy has a point.Because that <em>would</em> fall into the category of continuing to try and appear to be something they’re not to each other.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re right,” Louis agrees, pushing just a bit to roll backwards as best he can, his right hand sliding down to grip the boy’s wrist.“Maybe tonight could be the night we learn?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m right with you.”Both rows of teeth are just about shining from the dimpled boy, Louis sharing a confirming look with him before turning around to start towards the main area—and immediately having his skates come out from right up under him, of course.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And that’s only the <em>beginning.</em></span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After Harry helps Louis up (<em>after</em> also falling himself while trying, since after all, they both can’t skate), it’s pretty much blunder after blunder for the twenty minutes following that initial fall.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s even made worse because of the intimidation of it all, all those happy faces, flying past them all high and mighty just because they know how to roller skate.They even dance to the music, somehow.They <em>dance</em> to the music while rolling fifty miles per hour with a death trap attached to their feet.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis and Harry just try their best, but it ultimately amounts to nothing as the best they can do are slow rolls that are propelled by someone either accidentally pushing them along, or either of them kicking off of one foot and then being scared to continue.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The <em>good</em> part is, they don’t ever seem to detach from each other after that initial fall.It’s sort of comforting, as much as it is physically entrancing, because Louis honestly does not even remember the night feeling this <em>warm</em>.Somehow, Harry’s hands at his biceps, and his wrist, and tugging at his sweater, and just <em>reaching </em>out for him, and even very briefly right upon Louis’ hand (they both realized it and immediately shifted to some other form of attachment) is making this night a lot less cold.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even though they only last for about twenty minutes minutes, it seems like an eternity for Louis once they’ve both sort of tapped out at the same time, Harry having landed on his ass and taking Louis down with him.This is why Louis’ currently sighing profusely, head rested right upon the boy’s chest (unintentionally) and looking up at the night sky, all the skaters going around them and probably irritated at how they haven’t gotten up.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis turns over, lifting his head from Harry’s body, but resting his elbow near the boy, hovered next to him.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is going nowhere, huh,” Louis tells him quietly, Harry’s eyes gently closed right now.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, despite everything, I think this has still gotten me some excellent calf exercise, because mine are aching,” Harry says, eyes still peacefully closed as Louis giggles at him. </span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis contemplates for a second asking if they should just give up here and find something else to do, or maybe some actual <em>food</em> to eat, since that’s kind of what most people do <em>first</em> on dates anyway, and there’s a pizza food truck catering nearby that’s been calling his name since they got to this skate disaster.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But on the other hand, he’s <em>loving </em>the part where they get to touch each other a lot.Some kind of physical barrier has definitely been broken between them today, and Louis can already feel that awkward layer they’ve always had, peeling right away.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wanna see if we can just make it around one lap?” Louis asks.“Try our best to get it right just <em>once</em>?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s eyes are opening now, meeting Louis, and bringing Louis to realize they’re pretty close right now, not giving a care to the people around them.Louis honestly wouldn’t be surprised if someone from <em>this</em> event walks up soon and tells them this event is for skating, not making googly eyes at the guy you like as you lay up with him on the floor.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just once.We have to.For our pride,” Harry agrees, right dimple deepening as he shifts to sit up.“Let’s make this next go our best yet.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ getting up first, at least having gotten the hang of <em>that</em> by now as he holds a hand out for Harry.“Yeah, like Zoey said, we just gotta remember to lean forward, and—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And don’t be afraid to actually go a little fast, because that helps,” Harry agrees with him, using his hand as leverage to get up, their eyes sparkling at each other and Louis not being able to contain his happy teeth.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Let’s fucking <em>do</em> this,” Louis starts, pumped as he kicks off of his right foot, hand around Harry’s wrist.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s eyes are so fixated on Louis right now with wonder, and joy, and enthusiasm, and all that shit that’s making Louis’ insides melt like butter.“Fuck ye—“</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy—or the boy’s <em>forehead, </em>runs right into one of those stupid poles that are stationed at several different sections of this thing, the impact and collision of it having cocked Harry’s head right back, and having Louis for a split second fully convinced he’s just gotten a concussion.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But surprisingly, the boy doesn’t fall right onto his ass with unconsciousness like Louis would’ve expected, the boy simply stumbling back, which is made even worse because he has skates on, leaving Louis to come in front of him and grab a hold of him by the arms in order to keep him from falling.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Of course, this just results in a slower, more carefully executed fall, Harry holding wrinkled brows and the heel of his hand to his forehead, voicing how much that “fucking sucked” and Louis not knowing what else to say besides “are you okay”.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s a moment where Louis’ on his knees, hovered over Harry and still bracing him at the arms as the boy’s sat up, rubbing his forehead.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What color are bananas?” Louis asks, eyes serious and focused on Harry as the boy hasn’t said many words outside of describing how much that hurt.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Harry asks, eyes finally becoming more properly open as he blinks at Louis.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis shakes his head at himself.“I think I saw that in a movie, or something.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Despite the fact that it looked like Harry was no longer in the mood for finding anything humorous right now, that actually gets Harry’s lips to twitch into a curve just a little bit, Louis tilting his head at him and smiling right back.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This skating stuff blows,” Louis decides, Harry quickly agreeing with a nod.“Wanna eat something instead?”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Harry responds, rubbing his temple one last time.“Whatever they’re doing at that food truck smells amazing.”</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And great, they’re on the same page about what to eat, without just pretending they want pizza in order to appease one another.Louis isn’t surprised however, because everyone loves pizza.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So they’re in agreement right there and then, not even waiting to roll over to the bleachers, and instead taking their skates off right where they’re situated in the middle of the floor, already getting into a mini squabble about how Louis prefers cheese pizza, and how Harry doesn’t even think that should qualify as real pizza.</span>
</p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
<p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>i might consider continuing to update this if i get even one comment to continue. two would be greatly appreciated as well tho. just wanna know anyones reading :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah yes, the <em>fine</em> <em>cuisine</em> we’ll be having for our date night,” Louis says, lifting the medium sized pizza box by the plastic bag it came in once they’d ordered from the truck.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, good food is good food,” Harry retorts, walking alongside the boy as their surroundings grow increasingly quiet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’d just wanted to find some other place to eat.Some place more secluded where they <em>didn’t </em>just make fools of themselves and may or may not have almost gotten concussions.Now they seem to have stumbled upon more natural areas, the trees growing thicker and the roads growing more mudded, dusty, and hardly there.The only thing keeping Louis feeling safe enough are the street lights they pass every now and then.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wow, look at that,” Harry’s saying at some point, looking off to the right a bit and bringing Louis to follow suit.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s simply a body of river that Louis’ seen before, given that this area is a natural attraction of sorts,but in the nighttime right now it looks especially glistening, what with the moonlight reflecting in it and the ethereal moving water sounds its making. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And nearby it is also a perfectly perfect bench swinging from a tree, big enough for two.Four, even, but two is all that matters right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Soon they’re sat in it, the wind calm enough to not send them into a frenzy of back-and-forth rocking, only ever so gently providing a tender swing, and not interfering with this serene moment of greasy pizza, a beautiful river, and faraway crickets.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You did wanna sit here, right?” Harry asks, having paused before he’d been about to take a bite.“You weren’t just agreeing with me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis shakes his head before he speaks, only seeing shadows of the boy, along with the twinkle in his eyes that stand out.“No.I actually like sitting in nature often.It’s calming.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s curved lips are shy and pressed into his chest once he’s nodding, the bench swinging just a bit more.“Me too.People don’t really know that about me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I feel special then,” Louis replies, before taking another bite out of his pizza, one knee up on the bench underneath him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry only responds in a light chuckle, his legs crossed upon the bench as the pizza box sits in between them (which now feels quite unnecessary).He’s biting into his slice of pizza again, only chewing for a moment, and definitely appearing to take pleasure out of the gooey cheese that he has to pile into his mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This shit is literally amazing,” Harry comments after having chewed a bit.“Definitely a high point of tonight.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can’t believe the high point of tonight is greasy food truck pizza,” Louis replies, turning his eyes back toward the river as the toe of his shoe lightly grazes the dirt grass below.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No—tonight is <em>great</em>.You’re just not understanding how amazing this pizza is,” Harry’s explaining, actually sounding quite serious as Louis looks at him with furrowed brows.“It’s probably because you got cheese pizza like a weirdo.The pepperoni is phenomenal.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re talking about <em>pizza</em>, Harry, not a plate of hors d'oeuvres,” Louis teases, Harry shrugging him off and having to pile some more cheese into his mouth after it slides off of the slice he’d bitten into.“Also, you look so sexy right now, you know, inhaling cheese into your mouth like noodles.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s almost bent over in laughter as he’s still chewing on the slice, Louis joining with feathery giggles as well as he toys with the crust he has left on his slice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not as sexy as you,” Harry responds, bringing Louis to look at himself where he’d been holding his crust, fist around it and only an inch or two away from having taken a bite out of it.It’s quite a…compromising position.One that’s quite suggestive.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is probably why Harry quickly backtracks, shaking his head and shutting his eyes briefly.“I—I didn’t mean it like <em>that</em>—honestly don’t even know why I said that,” he stammers.“Not what I meant.At all.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis blinks at the boy for a bit, crust back in the napkin in his lap, trying to keep his shaking lips from taking enjoyment out of this too much.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Harry, it’s all good,” Louis replies.“And regardless, I <em>can</em> appreciate an adult joke from time to time.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right.That Mark Zuckerberg-less humor you were talking about,” Harry says pointedly, raising a finger at the boy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Exactly,” Louis chuckles.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Some more time is spent eating, sitting, the two of them lightly swaying on the bench, not really saying anything important as they talk about nothing, sometimes pointing out birds that land in the grass, commenting on how they’ve never witnessed a bird sleep.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then they’re off.They’re both in agreement (or at least, Louis hopes so) that they’re quite worn out and ready to head back.The skating fiasco really pushed them to the edge tonight.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry we might have to walk,” Louis apologizes, folding his arms over each other due to the slight chill, walking alongside Harry, back toward the busier part of everything in the distance, past the trees, and the silence, and the mystical privacy the both of them share.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“’s all good,” Harry replies, veering off just a little in order to throw their bag of empty pizza box into a nearby trash can.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis seriously wonders if the boy actually means what he says.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not.It’s really not,” Louis thinks out loud, face frustrated.“Because—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s as though it happens in just a few seconds, as though earth is playing a joke on him, how suddenly one, simple drop on his nose that falls from the sky, turns into hundreds. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s properly fucking raining.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And not even just casual rain, like <em>oh, we can still walk through this, </em>kind of rain, but intense, down to business, relentless rain coming down as Louis has just stood in place, looking up at the cursed sky and a tiny bit frozen with disbelief.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you fucking <em>kidding </em>me,” Louis says, with enough blunt hostility to actually be heard over the rain.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In his peripheral he can only see Harry reaching his palm up toward the rain as he slowly rotates on his feet, as though this is his first rain ever.</span>
</p><p class="p1">Louis turns his widened eyes to the boy, not being able to control the sad tilt of his brows once it dawns on him, how this is the icing on top of a pretty disastrous night.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This night is literally a fucking disaster, my <em>god</em>,” Louis says directly to the boy.“Like, probably the worst date night to have ever existed.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry appears genuinely taken aback as his eyes are floating back to Louis, blinking through the rain just a bit.“Woah, tell me how you really feel.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No—“ Louis begins, scrunching a hand in his hair and already beginning to feel his frustration overflow.“I mean <em>I </em>put together the world’s worst date, and you probably had a horrible fucking time.We have to walk in the <em>rain </em>now for god’s sake, because I’m an idiot and couldn’t bother to check the weather!”He’s throwing an arm out as he’s mostly yelling to the open air and scolding himself, which is something he does tend to do sometimes.Mostly when he’s alone.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis, it’s fine—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, it <em>isn’t</em>,” Louis replies, gesturing sharply with his hands as he explains.“This was supposed to be our first date and I wanted it to be <em>perfect</em>, so I tried not to put too much pressure by planning and scheduling and—because you didn’t seem like that type of guy—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait,” Harry interrupts, putting a hand up to Louis, who hadn’t even noticed he’d kind of been walking aimlessly amidst his rant, the rain letting up just a bit to where they can better hear each other.Harry’s walking up to the boy, Louis’ eyes slowly coming up to him, taking notice of how the boy’s hair is more slicked back and down like this, and how it’s actually quite long.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“First date?” Harry asks, fully grinning, even as rain is still coming down on him, beads of water trailing down his exposed torso—back to what he’d just said.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis hadn’t even realized he’d let that slip.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um…yeah,” Louis replies, scrunching his soaked sleeve with his fingertips.“I…Harry I really like you, and…and I had already fucked up our first <em>kiss</em>, so,” Louis begins, growing lost in his frustrations as his eyes leave the boy’s.“So I just wanted this to be perfect, so it could happen how it <em>should</em> happen.I thought maybe I could get it right this time.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The words take Harry to a place of thought, Louis eventually having to bring his eyes back up to meet him out of curiosity.Harry’s simply rocking on his feet just a bit, no curvature to his lips, although they’re not frowning, either.He’s just sort of taking Louis in, a few feet of rain between them that’s blocking out the silence.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But <em>perfect</em> isn’t really how life always tends to work out,” Harry says eventually and softly, Louis almost not having heard it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This brings an unwelcome feeling to stir in Louis’ chest, because that statement could not be <em>more</em> true, and it could also be referring to both this horrible night, <em>and</em> the potentiality that Harry could not be returning the same feelings Louis has.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know, and it fucking sucks.It just fucking sucks, and everything sucks, so just let me walk away, and—“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis had been on his way right past Harry, just wanting to get closer to the moving human population and shelter far ahead, when the boy had taken a gentle hold of his arm before Louis could get by.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ being pulled back and into Harry within a second, Louis only being granted an instant of the boy’s eyes fluttering over his face and down to his lips, before Harry’s kissing him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis sinks into it more effortlessly than anything he’s ever done in his life, their lips puckering against each other fully, and Louis feeling heat circulate where Harry’s still holding his arm.It’s like Louis exhales all the turmoil and friction that’d been whirring through his brain, just breathes it into Harry, and lifts his hand to slide back into the boy’s wet hair, getting his fingers tangled in the mess of it and gliding along the tulip stem.He even feels one of Harry’s hands slide against his lower waist and towards his back, bringing the both of them to be more flush against each other as they tilt their heads into each other and latch with moistened lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When there’s a break granted after their lips are gently sliding to detach from one another, their foreheads connected and the breaths heavy between them, Harry’s speaking in their bubble with almost no volume, making it just for Louis to hear.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think a lot of people would agree a kiss in the rain is perfect,” Harry’s saying, a smile to his voice that makes Louis open his eyes, just <em>needing </em>to see the boy up close (well as much as his rain-stained glasses will allow), with his pink, happy lips, and his cherubic nose, and his eyes that are currently only focused on one thing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis doesn’t even respond before closing the space between them again, this time getting an arm wrapped behind the boy's neck as he breathes him in, gets a whiff of him through his nose every time he has a break, just grows so immersed in never wanting this moment to end.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It has to end though, of course.After all, they are in the rain.And in the middle of somewhat nothingness.Probably best for them to go to where there’s more actual human life.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So when they’re practicing self restraint after one last, longing peck that Louis just barely chases after, Harry’s stepping back, Louis immediately sensing the cold of the rain again once Harry’s forehead isn’t touching his anymore.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But the warmth immediately returns all over his body when the boy is simply holding his arm out, palm faced up and inviting Louis to hold on.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Louis takes his hand, sliding his fingers in between Harry’s and starting to walk along with him.Immediately however, his body feels more engulfed in flames, rather than just warm.Because this is it.This is the real stuff.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I like how your palm feels,” Louis decides to say out of nerves, the rain much softer now as it comes down more casually, although they’re both still considerably drenched with heavy clothes.“It’s all warm and texture-y.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry laughs next to him, dimples peeking over at Louis as Louis is grateful for the way the nighttime is naturally hiding his blush.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They walk in probably what is the most comfortable, reassuring silence Louis has ever been apart of.Louis’ honestly too fucking elated right now to say anything, and he’s simply hoping it’s the same for Harry too.Oh, and thank <em>god</em> it’s already raining, because Louis’ lucky not to be able to tell if his own palm is sweaty right now or not.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um…when I told Niall that you weren’t my type.Which obviously got back to you,” Louis says jokingly, kicking his feet against the ground just a bit as he walks.“I didn’t really mean that.Like at all.I was just…talking.Sometimes I say stupid shit when I’m nervous and defensive.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Not gonna lie, hearing that is sort of bittersweet,” Harry replies, Louis faintly raising an inquisitive eyebrow at him.“Because right now, I was thinking <em>I’d</em> been the one to make you go <em>fuck it </em>and change your preferences.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis walks into him intentionally, their shoulders bumping, although their fingers remain interlaced as Louis narrows his eyes at him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t have a <em>type</em>, anyway,” Louis says, turning his chin up at the boy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, obviously it’s tall boys with brown, curly hair,” Harry tells him, Louis walking much too close to him as he beams up at him but not caring, the voices of people and faraway club music coming into earshot again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ about to turn this moment much too sappy as he parts his lips, before the sight in his side vision of some moving object coming towards them catches his eye, the rain just barely falling now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They both find that it’s a golf cart, and as it’s approaching closer, there’s Zoey and her boyfriend on it, along with about three other people who probably also came from the roller skating event.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’re headed back to campus!You guys need a ride?” she’s asking, the driver looking at them with question.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god, <em>thank you,” </em>Louis says with relief, just at the same time as Harry’s going “absolutely”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Their hands don’t detach as they climb into the backseat of the golf cart, facing backwards toward the street once the thing starts going again.It really wasn’t until now that Louis noticed just how tired his limbs were.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The ride back is easy and restful, Louis with his head back against the seat cushion, and Harry’s thumb moving circles over the skin on Louis’ hand.Louis honestly could sit here with the boy forever, holding hands and feeling floaty and free while someone drives him around in a golf cart, never having to use his legs again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s met with the reality that that can’t happen, however, when Harry’s going “we can stop here” by their apartment complex (Louis thinks, he honestly hadn’t been paying attention to his surroundings), the both of them having to climb out and wishing everyone a goodnight.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once they’re stepping up to the sidewalk of where Harry would have to go up the stairs to his apartment, and Louis would have to travel much further down the sidewalk to get to his building, somehow when Louis hadn’t noticed, they aren’t holding hands anymore.But that’s okay, it’s not like Louis wants to glue their hands together, or anything.That would probably be frowned upon.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ looking at the boy for just a bit of direction, giving him the floor to call it a night as he pinches his fingertips together.He’s actually shivering a bit in his still wet clothes, but strangely, he’d rather follow Harry around right now than take a hot shower.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But then Harry’s also doing the same thing of seeking any sort of direction from Louis as he waits with an uncertain gaze.Louis tries not to roll his eyes at it, and just waits for <em>someone </em>to take initiative as Harry is wearing his huge eyes and acting like there’s something on his shoe.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know, uh,” Harry begins, hand against his neck as he looks backwards toward his building for a moment.“I’ve never actually let you into my apartment before.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hadn’t noticed,” Louis lies, placing his hands on his hips.“I <em>am</em> curious as to how exactly Harry Styles lives, though.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s grin stretches crookedly, before he’s beckoning the boy with a tilt of his head and turning towards the stairs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once they’ve gotten to the third floor, and Louis’ actually being let in, he’s not really surprised that it looks like a pretty normal apartment.This is often the case with college or college-adjacent housing; students hardly own the place so it makes no sense to customize it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait, close your eyes,” Harry says from where he’s still working to lock the front door.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis laughs for a short second, back turned to the boy as he’d been taking in the apartment.“Why?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just do it,” Harry says, Louis obeying with a grin and standing right where he is.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He proceeds to hear Harry shuffling around, probably going into another room, maybe he heard him open a closet?Louis doesn’t know.Either way, this beats being back at his apartment, alone and cold.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then he’s heard to be walking back over, his shoes definitely off and only his socks patting against the ground, before Louis’ met with some thick, plush thing coming over his right shoulder, reaching down to bunch around his ankles and absolutely sedating him with a coziness he’d needed from the rain.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Surprise,” Harry says, close next to him, bringing Louis to blink open his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy’s got a purple, thick, fuzzy blanket wrapped around them—yes, the <em>both </em>of them, with him holding the left side wrapped around him for warmth, complete with a dumb look on his face as he urges Louis to take the other side.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“On any other day, this would not qualify as a surprise.But I’m freezing, so I’ll take it,” Louis complies, taking the right side and feeling considerably warmer with every passing second as he snuggles into Harry and the blanket.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Now for the tour,” Harry begins, Louis quirking his eyebrows with interest as they stay wrapped like burritos.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even though the main area of his apartment is rather humdrum (which he does make a point to say as an introduction) Harry does make quite an adventure out of showing Louis the different areas, along with providing anecdotes about the interesting things he’s done in them.Such as the kitchen, where he’d tried to make spinach ice cream and had gotten a huge mess sprayed and dripping all over him from the blender, thus bringing him to swear off of going healthy, and then the fireplace, where he sometimes burns tissues for fun and pisses his roommate off (apparently his roommate is a grouch, although he’s asleep now and missing in action), or the dining table, where he—well actually, whatever he’d been <em>about</em> to say is quickly disregarded and replaced with “where I blew chunks after thinking I could mix vodka with rum”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis isn’t an idiot, he knows Harry’s autopilot mind had been about to recall some night of lusty, impulsive decisions on that dining table, but he won’t make a thing out of it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re sitting on the couch in the living room eventually, falling back onto it side by side and pressed in pretty close together, Louis feeling like this is genuinely an amazing way to circulate heat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And this,” Harry begins, head rested back as Louis admires his face up close.“Is where I sat watching <em>The </em><em>Golden Girls</em> late one night, and came to the realization that I have the most pathetic, elementary school crush on that soccer player Louis Tomlinson.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ breath actually stills for a moment, probably even longer when the boy is lazily shifting his laying head over to look at him.  Louis doesn't even know what to say, but he's probably conveying what he wants to <em>do</em> as he can’t help but to look at the boy’s lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What, did Betty White help you reach that conclusion?” Louis asks, his voice gentle and lulling.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry chuckles, shifting his eyes back ahead probably because of the immensity of their tight gazes. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It would just start to sort of whisper at me whenever I came across blue eyes,” Harry explains quietly, Louis actually being able to <em>hear</em> his own heartbeat right now.“So when I was watching Blanche and her striking blue eyes on the screen, high as hell at three a.m., it kind of became a blinding light.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ lips are stretching upwards, the boy not really knowing how to convey how touched, and gushy, and <em>disgustingly </em>bashful he feels right now.He’s genuinely never felt this before.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s suddenly shifting to sit up, declaring that there are still other areas to explore.Louis follows right along as he's taking in the geometric abstract painting on the wall that his roommate apparently paid Harry fifty dollars to be able to put up without an argument, and the tall plant in the corner by the dining room that’s completely made of plastic, because the real one had died in a week.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ aware when the tour is getting closer to the bedroom, because Harry is appearing to grow increasingly reluctant.But eventually that’s the only place left to see, Harry having just gotten finished presenting the hallway and claiming that’s where he took his first midday nap this semester.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And, um…” Harry begins, still holding his side of the blanket as he takes steps toward his own bedroom.“Here we have my bedroom, of course.A very intriguing space.A space of adventure, where no assignments are done.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although it makes Louis laugh, he can definitely hear the slight caution in Harry’s tone as he’s pushing the door open and obviously harboring just a smidgen of nerves.Louis can’t really be sure why, just faintly assuming it’s similar to himself, where there’s a slight sense of pressure at being in a <em>bedroom</em> after they’ve made out twice.It’s intimate, is what it is.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is, uh,” Harry begins, before going over to his dresser and clearing off a few cluttered things on it (bringing the left side of blanket to fall and leave Louis alone it), sweeping the items with his hands into an open drawer, before turning towards the main area of the room.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is just…sort of nothing special—very boring,” Harry says, although his eyes are definitely scanning his room as Louis shamelessly just watches him, because for whatever reason right now the boy is extremely self conscious.And Louis’ not really sure why because the bedroom is as normal as anyone else’s with a band poster here and there, a plasma ball that lights up the room in blue and purple, a messy, burgundy bed that’s littered with clothes, and—well, Louis will admit the cardboard cutout of Bob Ross is unusual, but nothing off the <em>rails</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, so no story here?” Louis asks, stepping toward the boy and taking off the blanket as well, feeling dry enough and setting it on top of the dresser.“I find that hard to believe.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s brows furrow at Louis as he takes a break from all the self conscious scanning, back leaning against the dresser.“I don’t—how is that hard to believe—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because I’m sure you have a lot of fun in here,” Louis tells him easily, fingertips dragging against the top surface of the dresser as he steps toward him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, um—“ Harry begins, scratching behind his ear as he averts his eyes from Louis.“Define <em>fun</em>, there’s kind of a broad—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why do you hide yourself from me, Harry?” Louis asks.The question’s quite blunt, but he doesn’t make it sound so accusatory, instead just a bit intrigued and suggestive as he lowers his voice, his eyes solely focused on the boy as he steps even closer to him, properly in his space. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s finally looking at him, Louis’ arm almost encompassing him with how it’s stretched out on the dresser, the low blue light animated and picking apart the lines of Harry’s face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What do you mean?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like—“ Louis begins, finding the words with expressive hands.“I know you have your...<em>escapades</em>.I’m not judgy, it’s okay.”He’s speaking as he’s sort of walking into the boy, Harry teasingly leaning backwards and tilting his lips into a dimpled grin as his eyes play upon Louis’ lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But that’s only a distraction, of course, because in the corner of Louis’ eye, Harry is very much pushing something out of the way upon the dresser.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Louis disregards the lips he was about to land on, eyes brightening with amusement as he reaches to snatch the shirt Harry had been sliding and dangles it in front of Harry’s face. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Harry</em>,” he says tiredly, albeit lovingly, taking a step back in order to spread the shirt open, ignoring how Harry’s sliding his hands down his face. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“A t-shirt…with giant balls hanging from the neckline,” Louis observes, Harry’s hands still covering his face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My friend gave it to me after I lost a bet,” Harry mumbles.“It’s horrible, but now I wear it to bed when I just wanna throw something on.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, <em>dickhead</em>, I get it,” Louis says after a while, laughing at himself as he sets the shirt aside, Harry’s hands finally sliding down from his face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What was the bet?” Louis asks with engaged eyes, setting an elbow on the dresser.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That I could climb the flagpole by the university center,” Harry replies a bit dejectedly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ lips part widely, his mind quickly fluttering with images of Harry trying to scooch his way up that giant thing.“Oh my god, you actually <em>tried?”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>“And </em>I got quite far up, no matter <em>what</em> Tiffany says,” Harry adds, pointing a stern finger.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ still giggly and light, however, tilting his head at the boy as they’re both more properly faced to each other and leaned against the dresser. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“See, Harry.You don’t have to hide things from me, because these are the ways I get to know you.Like, the <em>actual</em> you.Which I get glimpses of from time to time—it’s what got me <em>hooked</em>, for goodness’ sake.” He adds a teasing punch to Harry’s shoulder with his words, Harry shrugging him off and toying with the tulip in his hair to suppress some of his nerves.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t have to hide stuff,” Louis repeats more seriously.“I know you like spending special time with pretty boys.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, well the only reason I hide <em>that</em> from you, is because I don’t want you to think I don’t like you,” Harry explains, bringing his fingers to trace his opposite arm.He looks down between their feet whilst he continues to speak.“I had <em>no</em> idea you were coming to the library to study with us that day.And I had <em>specifically </em>asked Liam.”He sighs at himself frustratedly, as though the tension of that day is coming back to him, Louis almost feeling tempted to reminisce it too, but no, he won’t do that.There’s no reason for that now that they’re in front of each other.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So, yes, I do…do <em>that</em>,” Harry seems to finally declare, straightening his shoulders out.“But not usually on a feelings level, like…”. He opens his fingers, trying to get the words out and failing to find them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just the sex,” Louis finishes for him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah that,” Harry agrees, shooting a finger gun at Louis.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And you sell weed too.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s pretty expected when Harry gapes.“Uh—I do <em>not—“</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Come on, Harry.You sell weed.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry still isn’t entertaining the idea, keeping his lips sealed shut and crossing his arms, Louis half convinced that he’s probably leaned against his dresser like that right now because there’s weed in the drawer by his elbow.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m <em>hip</em>, okay?” Louis continues, with an “easygoing” wave of his hand.“I’m not a square.I can understand how cool and chill it is, selling pot and stuff.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s unable to hold in his contained giggles as he’s shaking with it.“You literally sound like my grandparents right now.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then your grandparents must be <em>super</em> hip,” Louis emphasizes, Harry falling into more laughter as Louis pushes at his shoulder. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They grow more comfortable as Harry’s properly smiling, the boy falling quiet enough for Louis to know that it’s understood between them that he does, in fact, sell weed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But I guess, I <em>will</em> have to tell you—just to say I did—thatitsahorribleideaandyoushouldreconsider <em>but</em>,” Louis lets out, wiping his hands off on each other casually, even though Harry’s already rolled his eyes and let out a sigh.“I will let you be you.At least you don’t have to hide it from me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Trust me, any caution you can give me, I’ve already heard, experienced, all of that,” Harry’s saying, before growing more hesitant in his words as his eyes focus on Louis’ collar.“That’s actually, uh…why I’m doing the whole soccer gig, because I’d gotten caught last semester.Sort of a <em>prove yourself</em>, and <em>show that you care about this school </em>thing.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis tries not to let the surprise show too much on his face, opening his mouth to a minimum and being glad Harry isn’t looking directly at his expression right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“My dad ended up having gone to high school with the dean, thank <em>god</em>.Or else I would’ve been outta here,” Harry continues, looking more zoned out with his thoughts as he ruffles up his own hair a bit.He eventually sets his sights back on Louis, Louis immediately closing his mouth and just being prepared to listen with an open mind.“Sorry that I like—I just don’t want you to see me like that?And like…see how much of a fuck up I can be, or how I’m sorta dysfunctional—I mean, I’m fine with that <em>myself, </em>I’ve embraced it with confidence”—he places a hand to his own chest—“but it kinda feels different when you start liking someone.Considering how it looks from their point of view.Especially someone like you, who strives for perfection and often achieves it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ lips curve emphatically, simply growing to adore watching the boy just speak, <em>voice</em> himself, especially when they were once too awkward and fumbling to even introduce themselves to each other.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Haven’t we already learned our lesson today?” Louis asks softly. “Perfect is boring.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He grabs a hold of the bottom hem of the boy’s chore jacket, just wanting to touch him since he hasn’t in a while, slowly kicking his feet as he walks himself over to the stool by Harry’s tall lamp, bringing the boy along behind him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Everyone just like, loves you.And craves your energy where they are.And it’s like your presence and personality loosens everything up, even if it’s just a little.” Louis gets himself pushed up upon the stool, now at just a tad bit higher level than Harry, hand still holding the bottom hem of his jacket as the boy steps close.“And I’m obsessed with that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You must be, since you’re here, listening to me talk about how much of a fuck up I am instead of being curled under your blankets at home,” Harry says, still about a foot between them that just won’t cut it, in Louis’ opinion.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s why it sort of just takes over him, how he smoothes his hands flat against the boy’s bare waist under the jacket and brings him in much closer within a second, before he's moving his arms to slide more snugly against the skin of the boy's back and holding him there nicely.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I dunno, I’m pretty warm here,” Louis says lowly, the words tickling the air between them as their noses touch, that glorious dimple of Harry’s showing up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s settling his hands upon Louis’ biceps, although his fingertips are idle and hesitant, as though he’s struggling with relaxing himself into this moment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s funny, because I’m still a little cold,” Harry’s whispering, thumb drawing circles in the material of Louis’ sweater.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis slides his hands languidly up the length of Harry’s back, scooting in some more where he’s sat in order to bring them a lot closer, not even knowing what’s come over him when he’s purring the words “let me warm you up”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He just can’t really hold back when it comes to Harry.Once their lips are attached again, sweet and pillow soft as they get lost in each other, Louis doesn’t even know why he <em>ever</em> wanted to hold back. This boy is everything.Everything Louis never knew he’d been missing. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe he should be scared?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Fuck that, he’s going to just have the time of his <em>life</em> damn it.None of that miserable, destructive shit is needed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Their kiss is picking up steam in steady amounts as Harry’s hand is coming to Louis’ jaw and along the side of his face to hold him, just like that first night as the memory of it shocks Louis’ bones, pushing him into the boy even more with his fervent lips and gliding tongue.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry is just so fucking <em>hot</em> too.And Louis had known it as soon as the boy had walked in after Louis had only known him as a faceless name the boys had lumped him with just because they were both gay.Boy did Louis know he was fucked.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s relishing how stunning the boy is as he’s still caressing the warm skin of his waist with his palms, eventually sliding them into lower territory as the boy hums into his mouth due to the sensitivity of the contact.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis only barely has his fingertips gripping against the top of the boy’s jeans, trying not to overstep too harshly, but still wanting to tread upon it as he palms him and brings him in, their crotches more snug against each other and Harry’s lips coming off of his with a wet sound in order to move to mouth at his shoulder, the boy’s lips landing right on the wool of his sweater.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This sends Harry laughing just a bit, pressing his forehead into Louis’ shoulder and bringing Louis to curve his lips too, sliding one of his hands off of the boy’s waist (but keeping the other one there for comfort of course), just in case he’s made the boy nervous.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I completely forgot you had clothes on,” Harry says truthfully.“Got a mouth full of lint.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis falls into a genuine chuckle too, bringing Harry into his side.“That’s actually <em>my</em> fault for not pulling out the lint roller before date night.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, you’re fine,” Harry tells him, eyes beaming as he holds gaze up at him, anyone in view easily being able to mistake them for an old married couple.“Everything you do is fine.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There, another one of those moments Louis doesn’t know how to respond to, because he’s just feeling so damn <em>much.</em>He’s literally never dated before.Why in the world has he never dated before?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s after just a moment’s pause where Louis’ clearly too lovestruck and awed to say anything, that Harry’s just coming in with arms around Louis’ waist as he stands more to the side of him, before tucking his head right in the boy’s shoulder comfortably, as though he’d been waiting to fit right in there.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It warms Louis right to his core as he keeps his arm where it is around Harry’s waist.Not even just the impromptu cuddling, but the fact that the boy had obviously gotten a bit in the zone with spending some “special time with a pretty boy” yet he’s noticed that, decided to dial it back a little bit, and has chosen to instead just…fucking cuddle.Louis’ surprised he’s not a puddle of chocolate right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The only thing uttered, barely a sound by Harry before they fall into serene silence, is the boy going “I can’t believe I ran into that pole”, which Louis lets out a soft giggle in response to, because.That did happen tonight, didn’t it?It seems so far away now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They remain like that for a while, everything perfectly peaceful as no sounds are heard (except the very faint snores that are coming from his roommate’s bedroom), Louis at some point almost certain the boy is sleeping standing up, what with how heavy and sown into his side the boy has become in the recent minutes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis is the one who brings himself to end it, just because he knows that as much as he wants to, they can’t stay like this all night.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I guess I’d better get going,” Louis says, actually wincing at the painful words since Harry isn’t in a position to look at his face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um.Yeah, I’m sure you’ve got all sorts of stuff,” Harry begins, slowly lifting his head from Louis’ shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s midnight so,” Louis replies, meeting eyes with the boy and feeling like he’s seeing the sun again after fifty years.“The only <em>stuff </em>would be launching myself into bed.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right, that makes sense,” Harry says, letting his hands down from Louis’ waist (horrible) and taking some steps back.He begins moving his arms in such a way that he’s preparing to take off the jacket, Louis immediately grabbing a hold of the sleeve as he slides down from the stool.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No need,” Louis tells him, and it makes sense that underneath the blue lights, Harry’s cheeks turn a shade of purple.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry helps walk Louis over to his front door again, Louis taking the slowest steps he could possibly pull off without looking unnatural, and eventually, he finds himself outside of the door, the boy on the other side and ready to bid him a goodnight.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This was fun,” Harry says, pressing his cheek against the doorframe, similar to that time he’d been high and proclaimed he knew he wasn’t Louis’ type.He’s almost just as loopy now, but he’s not under an influence of any kind, except that they’re both absolutely smitten into near deliriousness.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, it was,” Louis tells him, not knowing why he suddenly grows unsure of how to ask Harry for one more kiss before he leaves.“Uh…”. He lets his words trail off, folding his arms a bit and only briefly looking down at the boy’s lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“C’mere,” Harry’s breathing, Louis smiling and taking the two steps forward in order to pucker his lips over Harry’s again, their mouths entangling only twice, Louis inching in from outside the threshold of the door as Harry’s still leaned down against the frame.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Goodnight, Louis,” Harry near whispers, before leaning in just enough for one of those innocent, closed mouth kisses.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Goodnight,” Louis whispers against his mouth, thoroughly pecking his lips again and not being able to stop. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s sure if Niall were here he’d barf.And with that thought, he’s aware of how nauseating he’s being, and he’s stepping back from the boy with a push of his glasses up his nose. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay—actually, what’s your number?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It sort of dawns on the both of them at that exact moment, the fact that they hadn’t ever exchanged numbers as Harry takes a moment to blink. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know what, I’ll just get it from Niall,” Louis tells him, waving him off before the boy can reach into his pocket for his phone.“Goodnight.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he’s fully prepared to just turn around and leave as Harry’s waving a cute hand at him—but he just <em>has</em> to go in for just one more peck against the boy’s lips, Harry catching it just as it happens with a smiling mouth, before they’re <em>finally</em> saying their goodbyes, and Louis’ walking away from a closed door.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Usually if Louis knows he has some extra minutes, when he’s running early and can take his time before he goes into the field to meditate, he simply sits in his car and takes a breather to himself, to rest with the music, mentally take note of the assignments he needs to do, all of that kind of stuff.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But today, Louis simply goes <em>fuck it</em> even when he knows he has a ten minute window of no obligations, because he just wants to see <em>Harry</em> already.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s a match today, Louis’ heart has been fluttering since Friday, and he just wants to pick up his feet right now.It sounds so ridiculous and cheesy and disgusting, but Louis can’t help that this is what he feels like.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So soon he’s slamming his car door behind himself, trying not to skip across the parking lot and towards the gate in order to enter the field, but of course he fails when his feet hop over the pavement <em>just </em>a tad bit.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s not taking notice of Louis closing the fence behind himself, with his headphones on over his ears and a textbook open in his lap that it seems like he’s actually <em>reading.  </em>Everything sort of looks like it <em>glows</em> around Harry right now, in a very unrealistic way.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis can’t keep his teeth from showing as he’s taking tiny, rushed steps up to the boy, although he's eventually succumbing to his heart’s desire to add a bit of a skip to his step once he’s reaching the boy.  Harry had lifted his head just in time for Louis to get an elbow hooked around his arm in order to lift him off the seat, hardly even stopping by the boy or giving him time to prepare as he’s headed for his meditation spot.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Louis</em>,” Harry’s giggling, although clearly keeping up and disregarding the way his books and pen and headphones had fallen to the floor where Louis had scooped him up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis just simply couldn’t contain himself.He’d texted the boy over the weekend a bunch.  Just stupid, cutesy words exchanged between them that made the anticipation of seeing him all the more greater, Louis never having known a simple text chain about songs that are objectively deemed as “bad”, but they both like as a guilty pleasure, would have Louis so smiley and eager.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They attempt to meditate together once they get to their destination, Harry sat across from Louis just like the first time, his dimples shining more than the sun as Louis’ setting up the candle.He’d even brought a pillow for him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I can’t believe this is only the second time we’re doing this,” Louis says disbelievingly, the both of them having <em>just</em> closed their eyes once they’d been sat properly and comfortably.Louis knows he’s not supposed to talk, but he just had to get that out, <em>then </em>he’ll go by the rules of meditation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know, it’s crazy,” Harry replies with a chortle, Louis mentally telling himself he will <em>not</em> open his eyes to look at the boy’s dimples.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis closes his lips that had been about to respond to the boy, because no, this is literally what had happened the last time he’d meditated with Harry.He can’t get distracted, and even more importantly, he shouldn’t drag Harry down along with him and rob him of a fulfilling, worthwhile practice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So they go silent for a moment, Louis trying his best to keep his mind steady, but not knowing why he’s hyperaware of his shaking closed eyes, as though they want to burst open.Which only makes him realize his lips are curved upward a ton, Louis grinning for absolutely no reason, simply from listening to the boy breathe in front of him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Surprisingly, Harry’s the one who speaks after a mere thirty seconds of silence. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I dunno why, but I can’t stop smiling.It’s very distracting.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is what gets Louis to open his eyes without a second thought, sparkling them at Harry and finding that they’re pulling open their lids at the same time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You too?” Louis asks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, so this whole thing is feeling pretty ineffective right now,” Harry says matter-of-factly, although his lips are still positively curved.“I kinda would just rather look at you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis stifles whatever blush wants to ooze through his cheeks, instead ducking his head and pushing his sports glasses up the bridge of his nose.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I just realized that sounded sorta stalkerish,” Harry backtracks, the hesitance heard in his voice as Louis picks his head up.“My bad.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Harry, shut up.It’s sweet,” Louis says with exhaustion, Harry’s teeth showing amusedly as the boy nods, accepting that Louis actually <em>loves </em>his sappy sentiments and thoughtful words, and should in fact never stop.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Just for humor, however, Louis adds “but—just saying, in case I ever need it, you know a guy who can help me out with a restraining order, right?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s responding with parted lips, Louis raising his eyebrows right back at him as the boy crawls forth the few feet between them, using the quip as an excuse to shove the boy’s shoulders, Louis only ending up taking a hold of his arms, sending them into some sort of gentle, clumsy wrestle as Louis ends up on his back, not even realizing that laughter has taken away a lot of his breath.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait,” Harry says, also breathing a bit heavier once their laughter is dying down, the boy properly on top of Louis, their eye contact overwhelmingly close and fond, their pelvises very much joined.“Why can’t we meditate like this?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis tilts his head at the boy where it lays in the grass, not even paying any mind as to what kinds of dirt may be mussing up his strands.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Like this?” Louis asks.“With you crushing my stomach and all?Horrible idea.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s gentle chuckles blow out in little tufts near Louis’ lips, and only in the corner of Louis' view can he see Harry playing with some strands of his hair between two fingers.The boy is actively <em>admiring </em>Louis right now, and Louis’ just watching him do it, and with the sun in the clouds right behind him, floating enchantingly and creating a canvas surrounding him, everything feels very surreal.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re right, it’s a bad idea,” Harry replies eventually, eyes attached to Louis’.“There’s no way I’d be able to concentrate.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ only form of getting this whole saccharine moment to pass before he literally bursts into flames from the heat that’s accumulating on his body, is scoffing with laughter and pushing the boy off of him with a hand against his cheek.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s like putty as he’s pushed off and rolled to the side, now on his back next to Louis and filled with delight and happy breaths.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They lay there for a while, Louis just relishing the moment and deciding this is better than meditation.At least for today. Laying here next to Harry, physically feeling his own heart stutter every time the boy touches him, just knowing that the boy has chosen to be here too.That the boy has chosen Louis as the person he wants to like right now.It’s everything.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How did you come out, anyway?” Harry’s asking after a while, the both of them still gazing up at the sky.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You really wanna know?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, I asked.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Feisty,” Louis retorts, hearing Harry’s amused hum to the left of him.“Well, it was at the christening reception of my nephew this summer.The perfect place where every single family member that I’ve known, near and distant, came together.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The ideal setting for coming out,” Harry jokes matter-of-factly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yep,” Louis agrees with some quick nods.“Basically I’d just gotten so tired of all the inquiries about where <em>my</em> lady was at, when <em>I’d </em>start finding nice women so that I could also then have christenings, and baby showers, and <em>weddings</em>, and…” Louis gets lost in thought as he thinks about it, wrinkles forming between his brows and his insides feeling unsettled at the memory of how dissected he’d felt that night.“It was all just <em>she she she, her, woman, girlfriend</em>, that by the end of the night I was so drained—and slightly buzzed—enough that I proposed a toast, fork to the glass and everything to get everyone’s attention, and informed everyone that I was, indeed, gay.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He can feel Harry’s big eyes coming over to him, Louis trying to keep his smirk small whilst he’s just now realizing how that’s kind of iconic.It definitely didn’t seem that way at the time.More self-destructive and impulsive than anything.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So you’re a <em>drama queen</em>,” Harry says, not as an insult, but more awed, as though this is a realization that is dawning upon him, one that he wouldn’t have guessed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know what, I’ll admit I can be sometimes,” Louis replies with a shrug.“Did I mention I’d stood on top of my chair too?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god, this is rich,” Harry’s continuing, still incredulous and entertained.“So how did the team come to know?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ lips are curving upward as he thinks about it, toying with the zipper on his team warm up jacket.“I kinda just sent it in the team group chat that night after it happened, just wanting to be out to everybody,” Louis replies.“And was met with an overwhelming response of <em>we know</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry huffs only once in understanding, Louis biting the corner of his bottom lip and being refreshed by how that part was a lot easier, like a breath of fresh air.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I suppose it’s pretty easy to guess if you aren’t busy forcing yourself to ignore it like my family did,” Louis chuckles, silence falling between them for a moment and the clouds seeming more still now.Louis’ voice ventures into softer territory when he speaks up again. “How’d you come out?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I never really did, actually,” Harry answers, Louis instantly envious.“I just sort of always answered truthfully when people asked me who I was crushing on, for as far back as I can remember.I started out young and honest, and here I am now, never having spent a second in this manmade <em>closet</em>.”Louis can sense the boy using the air quotes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ugh, I’m jealous of that,” Louis sighs.“I’m so jealous of that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Trust me, Louis.There’s nothing to be jealous about when it comes to me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis turns his head over to his left, cheek against the grass as he looks at the boy, who shifts his head in his direction at just the same time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I came out <em>this year</em>,” Louis tells him, trying and failing at keeping the sadness out of his tone.“Not even that—like <em>four months ago</em>, about.Yet you’ve been so loudly yourself, just all your life—"</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, which means I can’t remember a time where my dad didn’t look at me with resentment,” Harry responds, his lips sadly curved.“Or my mom ever took me to church with her.I mean, church sucks, so it was cool, but it was more of an image thing for her, and I slowly had to realize that upon growing up, so that was icky.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The words are a bit of a sting to Louis as he hears them, because god, that is <em>tough</em>.Louis’ family had clearly dealt with it a little hard, especially since Louis had taken the most dramatic route in order to do it, but if anything, his mother has reached out to him and assured him even more (almost smotheringly so) that she will always be there for him, and love him just as much as she has, and all that other fluffy stuff.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry that happened,” Louis’ saying, nearly mouthing the words amidst this quiet moment between them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, it’s no biggie,” Harry’s shaking his head out, turning back to position his gaze up at the sky. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s another gentle silence, not one where it’s particularly lighthearted and jovial, nor is it depressing and clouded, but more filled with understanding, rather than anything else.Just the atmosphere of being able to listen, and actually care about what the other has been through.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Obviously, I…” Harry starts, words getting suspended in his throat for a moment as Louis watches the profile of his face.“I like hooking up with people.Because for <em>me</em>, it’s not only really great because of the, uh...the obvious like, <em>orgasms</em> and all…but it's <em>also </em>really empowering, because it’s like a middle finger to society to be so gay and unashamed.But like, I want <em>you </em>to know, that like…” He closes his lips for a moment, Louis genuinely not thinking he knows where this is going, but still keeping easy eyes on the boy nonetheless, the clouded sun reflecting in his eyes.“…I don’t expect that from you—or like, it might happen, of course, but I just don’t want you to feel any pressure.Because, like…correct me if this is a wild assumption, but judging by your personality and the fact that you just came out, I assume you haven’t really, like…”. He merely swallows instead of finishing his words, toying with his hair ringed around his fingers, only eventually turning to look to Louis for question with his bug eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis only merely shakes his head, because yeah, Harry’s right.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he’s also very thoughtful.And probably the sweetest guy Louis’ ever met.It makes sense that this is the first guy Louis has ever been this serious with.He’d been waiting for him all along.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Harry replies with an amused huff, before switching his energy just a bit, hand up toward Louis.“<em>Not</em> that I don’t wanna do that stuff with you though.Like, don’t ever doubt that I think you’re really hot and beautiful, and like…<em>very</em> attractive, um.Especially when you get in the zone during matches, like…”. The boy is definitely getting a bit sidetracked as his eyes or going hazy where they’re looking at each other, Louis growing crinkles by his eyes as he smiles.“<em>Wow.</em>Watching that is like…wow.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll keep that in mind while I’m playing today,” Louis tells him, reaching out and just bunching the material of the boy’s sweatshirt between his fingers for contact.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s in this moment that Louis’ sort of more aware of the fact that he hasn’t kissed Harry today (okay, he’d been aware of it all day), the boy and his impish grin beckoning Louis in as he grips his shirt tighter, just wanting to be near enough to breathe his air again, lean his forehead against his, and he’s accomplishing that right now, actually, as he goes in—</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then there’s the far away squeaking sound of the fence opening, right along with muffled, soccer player conversations, bringing Louis to lift his chin up in order to look towards them, which then brings him to quickly sit up, because he’s just now realizing that he’s not sure how public he wants this to be right now.Like he said, he didn’t want this to be a whole <em>thing</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You guys are having a bit of tea time, aren’t you?” Richardson calls from afar as he's the first one just now squinting over at them, Louis rolling his eyes as he pushes himself up to his feet, Harry doing the same next to him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just getting some meditating in, as usual,” Louis lies as he yells back, stretching out his arms and pulling one over the other out of lack of anything better to do.He tunes out whatever sounds of teasing they’re most likely going to make as he can already hardly hear them as it is, instead turning toward Harry once the boy speaks. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I guess I’ll head to my station, prepare for Coach to show up and give me a ton of shit to do before the match,” Harry says, scratching a finger by his nose and digging the toes of one of his shoes into the grass.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, yeah.I’ll see you?” Louis begins, eyes innocent and hopeful as there’s a healthy amount of space between them, before Louis’ shaking his head and scoffing.“Wait—of course I’ll see you, we’re on the same team.That was…dumb.”He can’t help feeling discombobulated right now, because he wants to touch Harry and do exactly what they’ve been doing, but it feels weird right now.  Louis’ hairs are nearly standing up on his neck because he thinks the boys are watching them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, you’ll be really busy, so,” Harry replies, nodding once.“It kind of is going to be a while until we properly <em>see</em> each other again.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And that’s alright.We can make up for it,” Louis adds, laughing, more to convince himself than anyone else as Harry’s laughing right back. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, uhm…” Harry begins, hand smoothing down his neck as he steps back on his feet, clearly contemplating if he should do anything, or touch Louis, or even hug him, everything feeling very much like a gray area right now.Eventually he just decides on leaving with a wave, the timid words “bye, Louis” spoken over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis only waves back at him, standing in place for just a moment and furrowing his eyebrows at the grass, the scent of his still burning candle becoming noticed by him again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then Louis simply decides, <em>this is fine</em>, before going over to pack up his stuff, before lugging his bag over the grass and towards his swarm of boys who are already beginning to chant like animals about the team they’re about to crush.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Louis actually matches their energy today, because for some reason, he just can’t stop smiling, greeting the boys with hugs, proclaiming that today’s match will be amazing, and doing everything but absolutely jumping around like he’s animated.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis, did you take something?” Liam’s asking at one point, right after Coach had told them that they were going to run extra miles today in order to prepare for the match and Louis had claimed he was excited. Although Liam’s question immediately sent everyone into laughter, the boy’s actually being semi-serious, since he’s not one to make jokes like that.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>No, </em>I’m—“ Louis begins, mildly offended as his eyebrows raise, although he’s eventually grinning through it again.“Just super <em>ready </em>for today’s match!So I’m so <em>thrilled</em> to do anything that will help us win, since Coach always knows what’s best for us, right?”He realizes that his smile is bordering on hysterical right now, but he truly can’t suppress it, his fingers gripping with tension where he’d set a hand on Zayn’s shoulder, and had eventually started to clench the slippery material of his jersey.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey, you know not to ever try shrooms without me,” Niall tells him as he walks up to him, half joking and lazily hitting the back of his palm to Louis’ chest.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boys are eventually surprised by Coach Branden with the fact that he’d instructed Harry to wash their old jerseys (which are objectively more pleasing to the eye and prettier to wear), so Louis’ elated through the roof when the boy is zipping one of his huge bags open and distributing them, of course saving Louis’ for last when he calls out the boy’s name, while all of them are in between stretching, and running, and kicking soccer balls around, and changing into their better jerseys.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Harry calls Louis’ name for his jersey last for no reason other than to give them an uninterrupted moment to grin dotingly at each other with starry eyes, Louis taking the jersey from him and offering a “thank you” that’s packed with way too much sentiment.Even one of the freshmen nearby takes a glance at him as he’d been tying up his cleats on the bench, which brings Louis to quickly offer the boy a nod and proceed to jog off toward the locker room.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s how a lot of the evening goes.  When the boys are doing all of their necessary pre-game training and drills and laps, when they're eventually joined in the locker room with Harry by Coach Branden’s side as usual to offer encouraging words as the stands are filling, when the boys pass by Harry and Coach in order to reach the field—it's just stolen glances, and hidden, dumb smiles that they share through all of that, every single one of those silly little grins keeping Louis enthusiastic through the match that starts up.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And the match flies by with a win.But admittedly though, this is a team that they always beat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Regardless, Louis still allows it when the boys are bumping chests and howling all around him once the time is over for the match, ravaging the bench as they swarm it for snacks, pouring gatorade over each other, and Harry clasping hands with them in congratulations—and then the boy full on <em>hugging </em>Louis when he gets to him, all to the sound of the crowd continuing to go wild around them, the other boys not even noticing as they shove them and scream about how they’re kings.And Louis and Harry are in the midst of it, the boy’s arms warm and encompassing around his waist, and Louis’ arms up above and around his shoulders, absorbing all the warmth he can during this moment that he knows can only last about three seconds.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It doesn’t matter once they’re detaching anyway, because through whispered breaths they agree and decide that they’ll be skipping out on the “after event” that’s going on at Liam’s place, instead just wanting to go back to Louis’, before Harry’s moving onto the next team member, slapping him on the shoulder and being pulled into a hug.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know, this would be a lot easier if you had more actual <em>things </em>in your apartment,” Harry’s saying with a roll of his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh come <em>on</em>, scaredy cat!” Louis yells at him from across the apartment, where he’s stood on top of the seat by the kitchen island, sports jersey still on and stained with dirt.“Just jump already!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s on top of a box by the fireplace, one that is only there by luck since Louis had gotten a package this morning and hadn’t opened it yet.In this intense (not really) game of "the floor is lava”, the only next possible move for the boy would be jumping for the coffee table, but it <em>is</em> just a bit of a risky distance away.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’d snuck away together before the boys could really inquire about if Louis was going to tailgate with them to the hangout or not—although Louis had to wait just a bit patiently for Harry to loiter by the stands for some guy who wanted some of…what he does, and all that stuff.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But now they’re here, the apartment is a mess, since they’d laid out all the stuff they could find in order to give them some options for the game, and Harry’s “Early 2000’s Teen Rom-Com Pop Rock” playlist is playing through the speakers Louis has that fills up the whole apartment.They honestly might get a complaint soon, but after all, they should be allowed to celebrate the win in any way they see fit, even if it <em>does </em>include “Dirty Little Secret” blasting all over the place.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry attempts the jump eventually, the boy having enough liquid courage to just go for it.He hardly even makes it halfway there, ending up on his knees in the carpet as Louis has already erupted into laughter.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You really do have all those legs for nothing, don’t you?” Louis asks, Harry just throwing up a middle finger at him and walking over to his glass at the edge of the television center, downing one gulp of the vodka, which is the consequence of falling into the lava in this game they’ve created for tonight.Whoever finishes their glass first loses.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After he’s finished scrunching up his face and pinching the bridge of his nose, he’s back in the game, starting wherever he wants to, although it <em>can’t </em>be any place he’s started before.It’s interesting when he’s choosing one of the chairs by the dining table, crouching rather than fully standing on it, since he might have a lack of balance right now due to that heavy drink.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Take your step, captain,” Harry tells him.“And take an actual <em>risk</em>, this time,” he adds tiredly. “Not just the clearly open chair right next to the one you’re—oh, of <em>course!”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The point of this is to <em>win</em>, thank you very much,” Louis fires at him, once he’s standing in the chair next to the original one.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry scoffs as he goes for the air conditioner against the wall at the edge of the kitchen, his feet having a slim area of space, but still staying on nonetheless.Then Louis goes for the step stool near the counter (the cabinets can be really high, okay), followed by Harry going for a textbook of Louis’ (one of the many random things they’d laid out so they could have more options), followed by Louis jumping towards a pillow on the ground, followed by Harry making an <em>impressive </em>leap towards a huge can of tomato paste that he <em>almost </em>tips off of but somehow ends up stabilizing himself through his clumsy state, followed by Louis thinking he can reach the side table and fucking it up, ending up with one foot on the carpet and an obnoxiously hooting and hollering Harry, who claps loudly and claims he’d better go drink.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Despite the competitiveness of it all, it’s tons of fun as they get more loose and wobbly the more the night progresses and they both continue to get closer to losing, Louis being grateful that they’re over here, doing this nonsense, instead of partying with the rest of them all at Liam’s place.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Eventually Harry decides he wants to break the rules of not sharing platforms with another person (it’s a form of sabotage), and he’s jumping on the couch with Louis, although he probably hadn’t planned to have pretty much tackled him into the cushion as Louis yells at him through laughter, the both of them beaming and heavy with liquor.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I was about to <em>win</em>, Harry!’ Louis tells him, shoving the boy away playfully.“You <em>knew</em> you had one more sip, you <em>knew</em> it!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, I just thought the couch could fit both of us!” Harry says defensively, although he’s all but convincing as his lips are shiny.The boy’s eyes seem to catch sight of something beyond Louis’ head as he’s on top of him on the couch, Harry shuffling forward (and pretty much smothering Louis in the process) as he dangles himself as much as he can off the armrest in order to reach something.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once Louis’ tilting his chin up to see and the boy is working to push himself back properly into the couch, he sees that Harry’s got one of the yearbooks that Louis had used as one of the random items he’d tossed around carelessly in order to help them save themselves from the lava.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy’s wriggling his eyebrows at Louis as he’s holding the book up to himself, his eyes peeking out from just above it as Louis rolls his eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Middle School Louis was never something I thought I needed to see until now,” Harry teases, Louis only barely trying at swiping the yearbook from the boy (because there’s literally <em>nothing </em>to see), and Harry yanking it out of his way before making himself comfortable, snug into the left side of Louis upon the small couch where they’re laying down.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Any clubs, honor societies, nerdy awards I need to know about so I don’t miss anything?” Harry’s asking as he’s flipping through the yearbook like it’s a fashion catalogue.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nope,” Louis lies immediately, because there is absolutely no reason that anyone should know that Louis had been really into cup stacking in the sixth grade.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know you’re lying, but I’ll just check every inch of this book anyway,” Harry replies, flipping to the grade Louis would’ve been in given the year.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it’s exactly what Louis would’ve expected when Harry’s finding him, in all his greatness with his intentional helmet hair, and mouth full of braces, and scrawny appearance that can still be seen even though the photo is from the chest up. Louis even had the usual glasses on, except those were much thicker, and had that super horrendous magnifying effect to them that made his eyes look big.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry doesn’t even hold back in laughing at it, drunk enough to not even take <em>any</em> kind of pause or assurance that it’s okay to laugh before his head his thrown back, Louis fondly annoyed at the fact that this is happening, that the boy is now getting a look at the fact that Louis is a nerd to his very core.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis puts his foot down, however, when the boy’s nearing the awards section, just about a page or two away from where the cup stacking championship would’ve been, and he’s getting into a lighthearted, giggly wrestle with the boy as he grabs a hold of the book and tries to prevent him from turning the page, all while Harry doesn’t let go of it and is repeatedly asking “<em>what’s </em>on this page, Tomlinson?Just tell me and I won’t look” through breathless laughter.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is all really unfair if you don’t dig up one of your old yearbooks and let me look through it,” Louis says with a huff, crossing his arms over himself as Harry is now quivering his lips at a half-page big photo of Louis, behind a table of stacked cups, proudly holding a second place trophy.Harry doesn’t respond to Louis' request in time enough, instead just fixating his amused eyes on the picture, which brings Louis to shove him.“<em>Harry.</em>Go get one of yours.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, okay, fine,” Harry’s agreeing, taking just a few more moments to simply ogle at the picture, before Louis’ shoving him again, and Harry’s finally letting himself off of the couch with a groan before claiming he’ll be right back and disappearing out of the front door.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Soon enough, Harry is back, but Louis immediately scolds him for bringing a high school yearbook, claiming he wants the oldest one he has.This sends Harry right back out the door, before he's finally arriving with an elementary school book where he was in third grade.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And this really doesn’t make anything more fair.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ugh.You were adorable,” Louis whines, the both of them sat on the rug in front of the couch, leaned back against it as Harry’s playlist has run out of songs and a bunch of suggested, miscellaneous songs are filling the air.The boy in the photo Louis’ looking at is simply Harry now but with angelic, curlier curls, and gigantic eyes that he hadn’t grown into in the slightest.“This shouldn’t count.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>You </em>were the one who forced me to go get it,” Harry says incredulously, staring at Louis with wide eyes as Louis flips the pages.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know, I expected a different outcome,” Louis replies, before setting eyes on some pictures of the third grade class, each with a parent behind them, both of them flashing painted hands after some kind of arts and crafts day, or something.Although there are just three or four parentless kids, Louis can’t ignore that Harry is one of them, although he doesn’t say anything as he looks at the page.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, um.My dad wasn’t really into that kinda stuff,” Harry explains quietly, an elbow on the couch behind Louis as he leans closer to him.“And not just because of the gay stuff—like, you could just clearly tell he was one of those that wasn’t prepared—or wanted, the responsibility and constant attention of a child.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Honestly, I have a theory that no one’s ever prepared for that,” Louis says thoughtfully, flipping the page to relieve them.“What about your mom?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, she worked—and <em>still</em> works like a dog.No days off, down-to-business woman at the tallest banking building downtown, type of stuff.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But don’t—like, it wasn’t miserable or anything,” Harry adds, halfheartedly chuckling.“Having no one just really all up on me—like <em>ever</em>, gave me room to do like, anything I wanted to do.It felt like there weren’t any rules.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although Harry has an easygoing demeanor as he says it, Louis knows that there’s no way he could’ve been cool with that all the time as he was growing up.It's also pretty likely that no children would admit it, but Louis believes any kid would have to feel that <em>something’s</em> lacking when their parents aren’t showing that they’re watching them.Aren’t showing that they care.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t know why this causes a certain thought to come back to him right now, but it ties in with how Harry’s just claimed his childhood went, so Louis figures he should voice himself. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did you really, um…” Louis begins, swallowing as he slumps just a bit and toys with the corner of a yearbook page between his fingers.“Did you charge boys to like, experiment with you in high school?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Immediately, Harry’s eyes are going elsewhere, his hand digging into his hair, just barely tugging at the strands as it's clear it’s not something he wanted Louis to be aware of.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey,” Louis continues, before the boy can say anything.He shifts to more properly face the boy, his legs tucked under him whilst he brings a hand up, takes soft fingers to Harry’s chin, and brings the boy’s eyes back to meet him.“It’s chill.You don’t have to answer me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, it’s,” Harry begins, shaking his head out, although still trying to keep his eyes to Louis once Louis releases hold of his chin.“Yeah, I did.But hear me out—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m not judging you, Harry,” Louis tells him, a bit of emphasis in his tone so that the boy can understand that he’s simply listening.That he truly likes him, and thus, isn’t going to think anything that he does is wrong.And no, that’s not crazy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, well.There started to be a good number of boys who wanted to keep it down low with me, just to like, <em>try</em>.Or <em>explore</em>, or whatever,” Harry begins, using air quotes.“Always aggressively claiming they were still straight, not even letting me look at them at school, often getting me caught up in the tangle of their confused, unfaithful lives.And it just got to a point where it was like, okay, if I’m gonna be sucking off douchebags behind dust-filled bleachers and told to stay there afterwards for at <em>least </em>thirty minutes to avoid suspicion, or humping cute guys from the wrestling team <em>after </em>they’re making me climb up the tree by the back of their house up to their bedroom window, I’m going to at <em>least</em> get paid for it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although it takes a second, Louis’ head is really slow when he nods once, only looking down at the boy’s nose briefly, but then coming back up to his eyes, just barely twitching his lips up. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, that <em>is</em> a lot better than doing it for free, no doubt about that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There was literally a <em>market</em> for it,” Harry adds lightly, Louis half chuckling as they’re fully faced to each other, Harry’s elbow near to Louis’ shoulder and Louis’ knee bumping his.“But it was never full on <em>sex</em>—and-and penetration, or like anything, just…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis isn’t saying anything, just listening thoughtfully and quirking his eyebrows up, even though Harry reacts as though he has a magnifying glass on him, stammering over his words and pinching the bridge of his nose.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, okay it was <em>twice</em>,” Harry tells him truthfully.“But it’s my past.I never did that again after senior year.I <em>knew</em> that as an adult that could get me into some serious shit that isn’t worth it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then why do you sell weed?” Louis asks simply, not putting any accusatory tone to his voice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“God, you are just drilling me tonight, aren’t you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Harry, I’ve literally asked two questions.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well aren’t <em>you</em> keeping count,” Harry retorts, Louis’ lips curving upward as Harry drops his head in order to have his cheek against the seat of the couch, his arm extended and under his head, his fingertips toying with the short sleeve of Louis’ jersey.“Well, after I graduated and moved out, I always told myself that I would sell drugs before I asked my parents for money or moved back in with them to save up.So, uh…”. The boy gestures widely with his free arm, Louis looking around just a bit.“Here we are.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis can’t help the way he kind of lets his feelings about it show a bit, tilting his head down at the boy and lifting his fingertips toward the boy’s cheek.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“There’s <em>nothing</em> else you can do?Don’t you already make money with the team?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Eight dollars pay for just a few measly hours four times a week is not paying for school and a place to live, Louis,” Harry replies, just a bit defensive as he picks his head back up, Louis attempting to soothe him as he caresses his cheek, not wanting this to get even a little heated.“And I’m tired of everyone pretending like it doesn’t drain the <em>soul</em> out of you to be drowned in schoolwork, and then, in every <em>second </em>that you have free time, you go straight to a suckish minimum wage job, and <em>then</em> find time to do your assignments—I almost dropped out trying to do that.”He’s increasingly impassioned as he speaks with his hands, Louis’ hand dropping to his collarbone as he just nods and listens to the boy.“This is easy, because everyone loves weed, and—and it makes <em>more</em> than enough compared to that other shit, so.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I get it,” Louis replies understandingly, repeating it one more time as Harry’s simmering down from his rant, his eyes coming back to Louis’ as he breathes more steadily.“I just…I don’t want you to get in trouble again,” Louis says honestly, dropping his hands into his own lap as he toys with his fingernails, Harry faintly taking in a breath as though he hadn’t been expecting him to say that.“Don’t want you to get expelled, and stuff.Just, bad things happening to you…that’s the opposite of what I want.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He huffs nervously with what’s supposed to be a tiny laugh, but the serious air on Harry’s face quiets him again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But…I also know that the world sucks when it comes to money,” Louis continues softly.“So I won’t lecture you until the world changes around you.”He hardly gets to interpret the way Harry’s searching for words, instead reaching his arms out and scooting in to hug the boy around his waist, his forehead rested sideways against the boy’s shoulder as Harry’s wrapping arms around him too.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis takes in the scent of his jacket, just breathing him in and never really wanting to let go.It seems like Harry feels the same too, his nostrils being felt at the crook of Louis’ neck.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>4 ppl comment and i will continue lol</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Another day, another evening, another instance, where Louis’ wrapped around Harry and hidden from the world—which right now consists of his teammates who keep inquiring about where he is everywhere outside of practice, the gardening club that he leaves early everyday (when Harry doesn’t join him), and occasionally his mother who he often forgets to call later on, just because he doesn’t answer the phone while he’s with the boy for the sake of not having to make it a whole <em>thing</em>.It <em>is</em> just a bit of a difficulty since he’s with the boy all the time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">On this particular evening, they’re in Harry’s apartment—well, his bedroom, more specifically, having taken a nap after doing homework together on his bed and feeling they deserved it.It was everything Lous didn’t know he’d been missing, having the boy snuggled in behind him, hands linked around his waist, the warmth of his nostrils against his neck, Harry sometimes flipping on his back, and Louis switching it up to jetpack him, snuggling in next to and behind him, it was just a <em>dream</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’d eventually stirred awake within an hour or so, teasing whispers and soft, tired giggles eventually turning into kisses, which is what they’re still doing now as they continue to remain half under the blankets, Harry’s dozens of pillows keeping them propped up as Harry’s licking into his mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It doesn’t take much for Louis to acknowledge that this one is pretty intense, Louis’ bottom lip between Harry’s teeth as the boy gently sucks on it, Louis having the boy’s face held at both hands as he takes in his scent.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s still slow, and steady, and languid, every lock of their lips thoughtful and meaningful, but it’s also deep, everything quiet except for the sounds of their smacking lips, the massage of their tongues together, Louis growing obsessed with the faint way Harry moans into the kiss when Louis pushes in a little bit more, as though it doesn’t take much for the boy to be so affected.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ breath is hitching when Harry’s hiking one of his legs up, the both of them on their sides and held onto each other, the boy now having an arm hooked up under Louis’ leg, their crotches much more aligned now.As Louis’ kissing the side of the boy’s jaw, he can literally <em>feel</em> the way the boy is trying to control his hips, not take it <em>too </em>far, just in case that’s not a territory Louis’ ready for yet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But right now, with the way Louis’ mind starts and ends with desire, he doesn’t have as much self restraint.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s hooking his leg around Harry’s thigh where the boy still has him hiked up by the knee, moving his hips warmly against the boy’s, and struggling against the stupid khakis that he shouldn’t have fucking worn today.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“God,” Harry’s breathing, Louis wetly suctioning the bottom of his neck now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That only propels Louis further, fully giving in when Harry’s hand is coming up under his chin and at the top of his throat, directing the boy’s lips right back up to his and diving into him, Louis tilting his head eagerly and taking the boy’s lips in between his.Louis’ almost fully on top of Harry as he’s leaning into him, fingertips searching for the back hem of the boy’s shirt, just scrambling and ready to rip it right off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Woah there, cowboy,” Harry’s purring lowly against the boy’s lips, Louis biting back a grin as he presses his head into the boy’s.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” Louis asks innocently, now bunching the boy’s shirt hem with his fingers.“It’s not like I haven’t seen you shirtless before.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He disregards the shirt for a moment as his hands shoot up to take the boy by his cheeks again, their tongues meeting just a bit before their puckered lips, and Louis feeling relieved again since he’d already begun missing his kisses.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just trying to provide a pitstop of clarity before we dive into anything,” Harry says, leaning more into the boy with a warm hand around his waist and under his shirt.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Pitstop of clarity?” Louis asks as though it’s ridiculous, while he keeps his leg hooked around the boy’s thigh and ruts his hips forth, Harry’s lips parting and his eyes closing for half a second.“What a sexy phrase, <em>perfect</em> for this moment.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Shut up,” Harry giggles, Louis not being able to resist giggling with him and touching their noses together.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although Louis had teased him for having it before, the sight of Harry’s digital clock upon his nightstand, just beyond and behind the boy’s shoulder from Louis’ view, is something that Louis becomes grateful for in an instant once he sees that it’s 10:08 p.m.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’d genuinely forgotten about time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Which is why he’s now bringing a palm to his forehead, closing his eyes and wishing life could be considerate of the fact that he has a boyfriend (he thinks).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ugh,” Louis groans, already knowing Harry’s doing that usual thing of searching his face with quiet, caring concern.“I forgot I had an exam due at midnight, and I have about two hours to do it right now.An exam that includes an <em>essay</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he’s opening his eyes again, its bittersweet how it warms his heart to see Harry so deflated, his cheek dropping to the pillow as he sighs.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you really need two hours to do it?” Harry asks innocently, taking one of Louis’ hands and rubbing his thumb over the knuckles.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis contemplates, even though he <em>knows</em> such an elaborate, multifaceted science exam is something he normally would <em>never</em> take a gamble on.In fact, on a normal day, he probably would’ve already completed it with five hours to spare, just to be on the safe side.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But for some reason, Louis can’t easily give into that voice of reason in his head right now, his eyes sinking into Harry’s like he’s become a puddle, his head floating deep into the pillows too as he admires his nose.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When it’s clear Louis’ giving in, curling his hand around in order to interlock his fingers with Harry’s, it’s Harry who’s opening his mouth and being the sane person.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Actually, no—I’ll let you go do your exam,” Harry says, shaking his head out as Louis parts his lips with offense.“We literally have all the time in the world to make out like two horny teenagers.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis laughs, his eyes crinkling at the boy in front of him.“I guess I’ll head back,” he replies.“But I’ll see you bright and early tomorrow right?When we board the bus for the match at Grasshedge?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, I thought you knew,” Harry replies, his face falling a bit.“I can’t come because I have a group project we’ve been procrastinating on.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is what has Louis rising to his elbows, eyebrows pinched and his expression just animated enough to resemble that of a baby.“<em>Uh.”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry, I’d only found out yesterday,” Harry tells him.“Thought they’d told you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And honestly, maybe they might have.It’s just that often these days when people are talking to him that aren’t Harry, he sort of tends to tune out.It’s not something he does consciously, okay.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I guess it’s just a weekend.It’s fine,” Louis tells both Harry and himself, sinking back down to the pillows, his face significantly closer to Harry’s.The boy crosses his eyes all silly and has Louis smiley and chuckling again, Louis setting a hand against the side of the boy’s face and stroking his thumb against his always smooth skin.“I’ll miss you, buttercup.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s as though Harry closes his eyes and leans into both the sweet name and the touch of Louis’ hand for comfort, Louis watching it with all the endearment contained in the world.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll miss you too.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis breaks out of his trance for a moment, still keeping his hand on Harry’s face, but only for a split second having watched them from a third person’s perspective and realized how ridiculous they’re being.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“God, it’s only <em>three days</em>,” Louis says disbelievingly.“What is <em>wrong </em>with us?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nothing.We’re just boyfriends being boyfriends,” Harry replies easily.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis opens his lips with just a light, smiley gasp, because he’s becoming way too used to the boy simply reading his mind and always saying exactly what he wants.“Boyfriends?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just go and take your exam already,” Harry says with a roll of his eyes, shifting to sit up as Louis follows suit with the dumbest grin on his face. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ fully on board with doing the right thing and getting out of this bed in order to go to his apartment, where all his textbooks, and his desktop, and his open notes are in order to take this exam—but not before he tackles Harry back to lay down on the bed one more time with a hug, resulting in just a few more minutes of sweet, warm kisses that they don’t want to end.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s when they’re at the front door, Harry on the inside and Louis right on the outside as they often find themselves (after only being slightly side-eyed by the boy's roommate who sits in the living room eating seaweed chips), that Louis decides to voice what’s inside his head, just to torture Harry a bit before he has to leave him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“By the way, if you would’ve jumped on me and said fuck my exams, I totally would’ve let you do anything you wanted to me right then,” Louis tells him, his fingers linking clumsily together in front of him as Harry’s face is going hot just as Louis has finished.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Regardless, Harry powers through it with a mechanical grin that grows and a single nod, as though struggling to contain whatever wants to reach out from inside of him and yank Louis back across the threshold.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s…” Harry begins, swallowing just slightly.“…good to know.Right as I’m about to close the door on you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And yeah, Louis is having way too much fun with this, watching the boy’s eyes go a bit foggy as Louis steps up to him, leaning the side of his head against the frame as he blinks up at the boy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But I guess there’s always next time?” Louis asks, his voice small.“Since you’re not gonna do that now?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There is definitely a split second of Harry considering it, their faces close again as Harry has an elbow leaned against the wall by the doorframe.  His eyes are fiercely scanning over Louis’ face and fluttering down to his lips, and then they’re unabashedly moving down his body, Louis just standing there patiently, and honestly not even having his exam on his mind right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then Harry’s shaking his head, his hand that’s leaned with his elbow curling into a fist.“Nope—no, I will <em>not</em> soil your brain and make you start missing exams.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sigh that Louis lets out is quite heavy as his eyes go tired and bored, blinking forth at the boy’s chest and just wanting to shake him and ask why he’s not snatching up this opportunity right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ about to open his mouth to complain, but he’s only sucking in air before the boy’s lips are quieting him, a gentle grip on Louis’ chin as their chaste lips pucker over each other sweetly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s continuing to speak once he pulls back a few inches, still holding the boy’s chin and ensuring they maintain gaze with each other.“Because bad grades will make you eventually resent me.And I really like having you as my boyfriend, so I don’t want that to happen. Alright?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis can do nothing but silently nod, although just a bit melancholy, regardless of the fact that Harry’s making valid points.So Harry’s sending him off with only one last peck, a promise that he’ll do great at the match this weekend, and a fluttering wave of his hand before he closes the door.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once Louis’ on the bus the next morning with his team, everyone groggy and out of it yet still managing to be loud and rowdy as though it’s not seven in the morning, Louis’ okay enough with the prospect of not seeing Harry this weekend, smiling at him from the stands, sometimes sending over the occasional cute wave when it’s safe enough for Louis not to be distracted.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He would’ve loved the hotel room though.Of course, they would’ve most likely been in separate rooms (unless they just happened to be paired together), since this whole thing isn’t out in the air yet, but the secret escapades they would’ve had is something that’s definitely on Louis’ mind.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The reason he can’t be <em>too</em> sad right now though, however, is because he’d seen the boy this morning before he’d left, even though he hadn’t expected to, since Louis literally had to be up at five.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So there Harry was at 5:30 a.m., knocking on Louis’ door with an actual <em>tray</em> of breakfast in his hands (well, if an oven cooking pan counts as a breakfast tray), complete with a bagel egg sandwich, a small bowl of assorted fruits, and a simple orange juice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy had claimed he was never really good at seasoning scrambled eggs properly since he didn’t know how to tell from the yolk, which is why it <em>was </em>quite a salty explosion of salt once Louis bit into the sandwich, but the breakfast as a whole <em>was</em> a perfectly perfect E for effort that had Louis’ heart swooning.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And now, he’s texting the boy on the bus as the rocky thing is moving him around and Niall is pushing him further into the window as he sits next to him, the boy not knowing the meaning of being considerate of other’s space as he’s arguing with Garrell over the back of the seat about the authenticity of wrestling.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis can hardly care, however, because the grin is still permanent upon his face as he’s texting Harry about how he wishes he had the boy to curl in against him on this bus ride right now, and how Harry’s wishing he were here too.Louis’ also giving him thoughtful tips on how he can improve in the breakfast-making department, and the boy’s being thankful and claiming he will dedicate his group project to Louis before they present, regardless of if it pisses his group members off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ giggling at that as he’s moving to text the boy back, before there’s suddenly a voice, loud somewhere behind his ear.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god.Louis has a boyfriend!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This immediately has Louis’ lips parting and the dumb, smitten look wiped off his face as he clicks his phone to black and meets eyes with Richardson over his shoulder, looking thoroughly devious, as though he’s hit a gold mine.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I do <em>not</em>!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it’s to no avail, because the bus has already erupted with questions of who it is, Louis already seeing Coach Branden in the back corner where he’s asleep, threatened to stir awake due to all the commotion.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Who?”, </em>“You’ve gotta tell us who the lucky guy is!”,“I saw their texts, it’s disgusting”,“Louis, <em>who?”.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No one!” Louis tells them, getting on his knees upon the seat to face the masses behind him.“I have no boyfriend, alright?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If anything, he’s just grateful that no one has even mentioned the possibility of Harry.Sort of amazing, how the thought of that has disappeared completely from the air since Louis has denied it aggressively so much.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boys don’t seem convinced entirely, their eyes still holding a bit of hope, and Louis taking this moment to briefly meet gaze with Niall where he’s below and sat next to him, and all the boy does is raise his eyebrows at him before seeming to decide to open his mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Guys, the man has said he has no boyfriend,” Niall tells them with a groan.“Fuck off of him.Garrell, why don’t we talk about how you <em>do </em>have a girlfriend, and a cheating one at that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This gets the bus to erupt in an entire different direction, Louis’ sensitivity simmering a bit, not even realizing his fingers had been gripping onto the bus seat cushion.He only offers Niall a second of grateful eye contact, before he’s sinking back into the seat, deciding to be much more discreet about how he messages the boy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Honestly, he can’t entirely pinpoint why it has to be such a secret.It’s just that Louis’ never liked a guy this much before, never been in a <em>relationship</em> before, and he’s super afraid of anything happening to ruin it.He just wants everything to be unaffected by any outside factors, doesn’t want the happiest he’s been in a while to go downhill.Right now it’s just him and Harry, the world on the other side, and everything’s literally going <em>perfect</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s the main priority of Louis’ life right now, so he’s protecting it with everything he has.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They end up losing the match.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Which is a bit of a drag for school fans who traveled along with them, and the team, and Coach Branden of course.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Louis…isn’t really thinking about it all that much as he’s hiking his sports bag upon his shoulder while they’re all exiting the soccer field toward their bus in the parking lot, having endured an excruciatingly long speech about how they’re losing their touch, and need to “restore their drive” or get back in the zone or all that stuff they’re usually told when they lose. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hey babe,” Louis’ saying quietly into his phone once he’s brought it up to his ear, ducking his head away from Zayn and Liam walking next to him a bit.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Babe?Oh we’ve progressed to <em>babe</em> now?” Harry replies, smile heard in his voice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m still testing different names out.It might stick, it might not.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good to know,” Harry responds with a laugh.“Are you okay?I’ve already heard how the match went…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ face is less smiley now as they’re outside of the bus on the parking lot pavement, waiting around for the bus driver to get back from wherever it is he’s gone.“Yeah, um…it sucks,” Louis says with a sigh.“But like, it’s just one match.It really bugged me how Coach called me out in the locker room.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, also Chase and Khalil too, but,” Louis begins, running his fingers through his scalp as he looks down, because those are <em>freshmen</em>, he’s now realizing once it’s come out of his mouth.“I can’t be on top of it <em>all</em> the time.I’m human, you know?”He’s less hidden about his conversation as he’s waving an arm out in gesture.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sure he understands that, he’s just trying to make sure you aren’t doing less than he knows you can,” Harry tells him, Louis calming a bit as he brushes his right elbow with his left hand.“I wanna make sure of that too.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis lets out a gentle breath, just taking the words in, somehow better being able to hear them when it’s being expressed from Harry’s mouth rather than Coach Branden’s.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know,” Louis responds eventually, toying with his jersey material.“It was probably just an off day, you know—it’s like cloudy, and gloomy, which affects my mood sometimes and…you know I didn’t even <em>meditate</em> on the field because it was closed off until the match, so.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Aw. </em>My little muffin didn’t get to find inner peace today?” Harry asks, just a bit mockingly and overly sweet, clearly making it humorous as Louis scoffs.“Since we’re testing out names.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, well I do <em>not</em> like that one,” Louis replies, scrunching his nose.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t worry.I’ll keep searching until I find one you like, egg sandwich.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis can’t hold back his giggles as he’s forgetting where he is altogether, Niall having been stood nearby and definitely taking notice of his conversation (well, everyone’s aware he’s on the <em>phone</em> but they’re probably thinking nothing of it as they’re continuing their own conversations and remembering that Louis said he didn’t have a boyfriend). </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m really grateful for you, Harry,” Louis says quietly, all the sentiment drowning through his voice because of how much he means it.“Thank you for checking in and cheering me up.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry assures him that it was no big deal, even though Louis can <em>hear </em>the stifled, suppressed blush and smile through the phone.Louis truly believes he’s turning Harry into a gushy, more romantic version of himself than he’s ever been.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re signing off on the phone after Louis’ assuring him he’ll call him once they’re back at the hotel so they can watch a movie together over the phone, and pretty quickly, Niall’s in front of him, hands in the pockets of his jersey warm up pants as he rocks energetically on his feet and grins like a goofball.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“This is so beautiful to watch, I could cry,” the boy tells him, Louis tilting his head at him with a sigh.“Just c’mere.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then Louis’ being pulled into an impromptu hug, his hands going up uselessly, even though he understands the sentiment, because the boy had been there from the beginning, predicted it since the beginning, was <em>obviously </em>bullied by both of them in order to make it happen.So he accepts the hug, even if it’s with hesitant arms.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Actually, I kinda love that I’m the only one who knows,” Niall adds delightedly.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>comment me please! :)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As soon as they’re back on campus and attending another practice, Louis is jumping right into the boy.Literally.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The team had arrived back in town last night, and Harry and his project group had been pulling an all nighter, so this is the first time Louis’ been able to see his smiling, beautiful face.The boy’s looking up at him just as Louis’ closed the fence behind himself, and Harry’s already pushing himself to stand up to await the way Louis’ walking, then skipping, then powering over to the boy whilst dropping his bag to the floor and then jumping up right into the boy with legs and arms wrapped around him, Harry’s hands coming up under him nicely and everything fitting in a perfect fashion.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s just so fucking <em>happy</em>.Almost bordering on <em>euphoric</em>, which is all he can feel as he’s burying his smile into the crook of the boy’s neck and Harry’s keeping him upright with warm arms.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And that’s just how it continues on.He meditates with Harry that day, every practice after, and it just becomes a <em>thing</em> that they do, that honestly may even be a bit sketchy to the other boys at this point as they stumble into them day after day, but no one’s questioned it, and Louis is too blinded and delirious to really think about it too much.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">With every passing moment they spend together it just gets better.Every night they cuddle each other to sleep, every kiss they share in private, even in public sometimes (when they can't help themselves and are still somewhat discreet), and every adoring look they share when they’re watering plants with the gardening club and Louis’ putting flowers in his hair.  They even have these impulsive instances of heated lip locking at the most spontaneous of times, like sitting by the fountain after a late night campus walk, in the middle of their cozy study sessions where they're on the rug surrounded by pillows of books and open notes, Harry snatching Louis right back when he's preparing to leave out of the locker room towards the field before a match, Louis always making sure he's the last one out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis even makes a point of trying to have Harry more actively a participant of the practices, just because not talking to the boy for so long during their four hours of practice is something he starts to dread.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So when he’s proposing the idea that they bring back circular cone exercises (which everyone <em>loathes </em>for some reason) where Harry uses a stopwatch in order to time all of them as they go individually, it’s quite a delight when, after each boy, Louis’ jogging up to him, just to get the precise amount of time a team player just took to dribble through the circle, clockwise and counter.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What was the time on that one, Harry?” Louis asks as he jogs over to him, the boy’s eyes already up and twinkling at him as he holds the stop watch.Louis’ grateful his back is turned to the team right now, because his grin is uncontrollable as he puts his hands on his hips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Twenty six point five seconds,” Harry tells him, dimples on both sides.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Which is pretty much the team average,” James calls from behind in exasperation.“What’s the point of this?We know how to do these.We’re <em>tired, </em>Louis.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Hey</em>,” Louis says over his shoulder, feeling interrupted from the sweet moment he’d been having with Harry.“We’re trying not to lose any more matches, aren’t we?<em>Speed </em>is essential.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s met with somewhat agreeing groans, most of the boys fairly whiny and exhausted, but Liam not seeming to complain, so Louis will happily keep them dribbling in circles.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He turns back to Harry in front of him, lips stretching crookedly once again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re doing a great job, Harry.”He resists the way his twitching fingers want to pat him on the head, just turning around and skipping back over to the boys in order to start on the next teammate.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After Louis’ done with his little segment of training exercise, practice is going smoothly for a bit longer, Louis pretty determined that they should be on nothing but winning streaks moving forward.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Since it’d been such a normal day at practice, he was definitely thrown when, just upon Liam calling it a break and the boys beginning to disperse to the cooler and their phones, suddenly, two of the team members (whom Louis hadn’t even realized had snuck off the soccer field) are coming back into view with a cake under their hands, some candles on it, starting up an impromptu singing of “Happy Birthday”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">To <em>Harry.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The apparent birthday of the boy doesn’t seem to be something everyone knows (fucking <em>obviously).</em>There’s just a select few who had been prepared for the surprise and are immediately joining in song, the rest of them kind of slowly participating after getting the gist of whose birthday it is.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Louis doesn’t really care that his mouth is pretty loudly dropped open right now, his eyes following the boys the whole way as they get the cake in front of the boy. Harry's grinning of course, although more politely and mechanically than anything.Louis has <em>seen</em> his genuine, ecstatic grin; it’s not what he’s wearing right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Still, Louis is thrown for a loop once the song has been over and Harry’s made to blow the candles out, Liam claiming “we know you hate it, but we couldn’t let you get away today without <em>something</em>”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s uttering a “thanks” to many rough shoves of his shoulder, giant cake on the bench next to him now as the boys are preparing to cut up slices.Harry’s eyes are eventually meeting Louis’ of course, where Louis gives him a very stern, very frustrated widened gaze of <em>what the fuck?</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis shakes himself out of it, however, sauntering over casually toward all of the commotion.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No idea it was your birthday,” Louis tells him with his chin up and his fingers joined in front of himself.“Or else I would’ve got you something.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s about to respond, although he’s a bit wordless as though he’d been caught in the midst of something as the boys are half paying attention to them, half arguing over getting a corner piece of cake.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, that definitely rules out Harry being his boyfriend,” Garrell’s chiming in, both Harry and Louis’ eyes instantly moving to him.The boy takes it as an attack, of course, putting both hands up quickly and backing away.“<em>Not </em>that we’re still on that—we’ve just been thinking of every possible option.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis instead turns his stern attention toward the boys around him as he places his hands on his hips and projects his voice a bit.“Actually, you guys really shouldn’t be eating cake in the middle of a practice,” Louis tells them matter-of-factly, a lot of them immediately chuckling, although Zayn’s the only one who agrees halfheartedly.“So keep it light, okay?Ten minutes.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He doesn’t practice caution or overthinking when he moves to sit next to the boy, someone having strapped a humorously tiny birthday hat to his head and up under his chin.Harry’s simply enjoying a tiny plate of vanilla cake and only hesitantly granting Louis his big, guilty eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why didn’t you tell me it was your birthday?” Louis asks quietly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because I don’t really care about my birthday,” Harry tells him with a shrug.“I even thought <em>they’d</em> forgotten.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, now I feel shitty because I’m, ironically, the <em>one</em> person who wasn’t in on it,” Louis tells him matter-of-factly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s offering him a soothing “sorry”, lifting his hand towards the boy, but then his fingers are hesitating in the air since he’s remembering they’re in public.He settles on lightly patting the boy on the side of his arm, Louis not being able to keep up the irritated, tired eyes he’s giving him, and eventually breaking out into a minuscule grin.Even though he <em>does </em>still feel pretty shitty.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s a feeling that stirs inside of him like some sort of parasite—or at least that’s what Louis makes people think once Liam’s telling them they have one more minute of rest before he needs to see them spread out on the field again.Louis makes an attempt to bring a subtle look of nausea to his face once he’s walking up to take lead in being on the field again, Liam immediately taking notice and walking up to him with concerned, low brows.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I just,” Louis begins, wincing slightly as he holds his arms to himself.“Just been feeling a bit sick today, is all.Think I ate something bad.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sick?Oh, absolutely not,” arrives Zayn’s voice, having overheard as he’s jogging up to them.“Take your ass home before you infect anybody else.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, we really don’t need a sick team,” Liam’s telling him, patting a heavy, comforting hand against Louis’ shoulder as Louis is nodding understandingly, rubbing at his eyes both with fake exasperation, and also just enough to get them to have a faded redness to it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Soon the topic of Louis being under the weather is something that all the boys come to know, Louis receiving the green light and comfort from everyone to leave early and tend to himself.Harry’s too far away to hear most of it, just watching from afar and obviously trying to hear all the murmurs, but Louis is eventually walking towards him in order to retrieve his sports bag from the bench.His bag is on the far opposite side of the bench from Harry, and currently, all the boys are watching him nicely from afar with their waves and advice for him to drink weird remedies, so Louis knows it would be much too obvious if he walked all the way over to Harry right now.He still has a <em>bit</em> of a rational mind.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He just offers the boy a nod as he gets his practice bag on his shoulder, turning in order to leave and offer the boys some final waves.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And everything should be happening according to plan now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Except he’s just a little sidetracked once he’s gotten through the fence and is walking towards his car, hearing the creak of the fence behind him, as though someone had followed him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Told them Coach had wanted me to tell you something,” Harry says, shaking his head as Louis’ turning around to meet him.“What’s wrong, love?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ closing his eyes tiredly, even through the placement of Harry’s hand on his cheek. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nothing, I’m just…not feeling well right now, is all,” he answers, meeting eyes with the boy again and using a slightly weaker, but not <em>too</em> obviously weak, tone of voice.The fact that Harry looks so genuinely filled with concern and sympathy right now is almost bittersweet, but Louis knows this is all necessary for what he’s trying to do.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do you need me to—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, just—you go worry about today’s practice, alright?” Louis tells him, hitting a gentle hand to his chest.“I’ll go drink soup, or something.And call you later.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They share a breath of understanding with each other, Harry mouthing the word “okay” before Louis’ pulling him into a hug, their arms with one over the shoulder and under the waist, synchronized in ways that Louis is always fascinated by.And Louis wants to be nowhere but in this moment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But as soon as the moment’s <em>over</em>, of course, he’s turning around with his mind focused on a fast-moving game plan, in order to carry out some sort of birthday present for Harry tonight.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis had to search the deep recesses of his mind in order to figure out what the boy might like, and honestly, maybe it would’ve been better if he had more <em>time</em>.But he literally had the clock racing against him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Which is why he now stands in his own bedroom, thoroughly decorated after Louis had jetted straight to every remotely party-related store in town, bakery shop, decoration shop, a few thrifty places, and has now been brought here.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He remembers a brief mention from Harry about how he hates white themed parties, and how they’re too pure looking and usually thrown by obnoxious people, and how he had made Louis promise never to make him go to one.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So here they have a <em>black themed party</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The only thing they’d had readily available at the <em>luckiest </em>bakery were unfrosted chocolate cupcakes, so Louis had to quickly prepare the black icing himself once he’d gotten back, and all six of those are currently sitting, nice and decorated on a tray towards the front of his dresser, along with two small glass cups that each have plastic (sadly) black roses inside of them.There are a bunch of black balloons scattered too, some floating with helium and some vulnerable to gravity as they’re over the dresser, and the floor, and the bed, and upon the ceiling.The blackest wine Louis could find (which is actually incredibly dark red) is on Louis’ pristinely made bed amongst the pillows, and yes—Louis had also changed his sheets to all black ones (luckily he’d already had them—he can enjoy the color black from time to time).There’s a black teddy bear propped nicely with the wine too (and yes, Louis had already had that one also), and the room is faintly shady with the cheap, lace black curtains he’d gotten to cover the windows.He also has his speakers going right now, set to the first random playlist he’d found with only songs that contain the word “black”, which is why Louis’ feeling quite festive right now as Led Zeppelin’s “Black Dog” is blasting.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">As for himself, Louis is dressed in the draping black sweatpants that the boy loves on him (he’d claimed he loves the way he swims in it, and also how the thin material allows for Harry to grip his ass a lot more easily), and he’s got on one of his large black denim jackets,along with a black bandana that he’s wrapped around his skull as a headband, his hair messy around it, and the fabric of it saving him from the bit of sweat he’s accumulated as a result of running around like a madman for the last two hours.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s perfect universe timing when the boy is calling Louis just as Louis had been looking around his room, satisfied <em>enough </em>for how much limited time he’d had.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hello, buttercup,” Louis answers normally, before remembering he’s sick and switching tone accordingly.“Um…practice over yet.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I was just about to head straight over.How are you feeling?” the boy asks seriously.“Can I come over?Or…or is that too much?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, <em>no</em>,” Louis’ replying, before clearing his throat a bit, keeping his tone tired and hardly there.He even moves to lay in his bed in order to make it more authentic with setting.“Can you come over and lay with me, actually?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of course, babe.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ smiling ear to ear as he’s curling one of his hands into a fist, before changing his demeanor again and speaking as though he’s sickly.“But first, actually—can you put on that panther thing you have?It’s so cute.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The pajama onesie?” Harry asks, Louis hearing the puzzlement in his voice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis had shown up unannounced at Harry’s apartment before, having been <em>very</em> pleasantly surprised to find Harry in these absolutely <em>adorable </em>furry pajamas at one a.m., the boy having been too groggy to realize he’d been wearing it as he’d opened the door for Louis.It had this hoodie that gave him panther cat ears when he put it on, and it was simply the cutest thing in the world.It’s also entirely <em>black</em>, so it’s perfect.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, <em>please</em>?” Louis asks sweetly, pushing him.“It’ll make me feel better.I need it right now.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It only takes a few silences for Harry to oblige, although Louis knows he’s just putting up a front as though he doesn’t like the onesie.He wears it in the comfort of his home for goodness’ sake.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, I will.Be there in ten.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ immediately springing up from the bed once the boy’s hung up, moving out of his bedroom and towards the front door in order to have it opened just slightly, before moving back towards his bedroom, sitting on the bed, and waiting.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It comes eventually, in the form of Harry first knocking politely, then calling Louis’ phone, to which he doesn’t answer, because he thinks the surprise will be a lot better if Harry walks in completely blank as to what’s happening. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then Louis’ hearing the faraway sound of him opening the front door, calling out Louis’ name once.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he’s pushing Louis’ bedroom door open and stepping in, donned in his fuzzed, black panther onesie, hoodie down behind him, and the bottoms of them scrunched and shoved into his sneakers, Louis can’t tear his eyes away from him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And also, as Harry’s eyes are growing increasingly blank and blinking as he looks around, something in Louis’ heart chooses just <em>now</em> to start to second think himself.To actually <em>remember</em> that the boy had said he didn’t care about his birthday.And oh fuck.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Regardless, Louis raises his hands uselessly to gesture at the room as he pushes himself up from the bed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Surprise, birthday boy,” he tells him, wriggling his eyebrows humorously with a lopsided grin.“Black themed party!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry continues to be wordless more than anything, Louis’ eyes watchfully following him as the boy is stepping over to the dresser with almost chaotically big eyes, not touching, but just barely reaching out fingers towards one of the cupcakes, blinking at one of the roses that’s in the glass cup on the right.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because I hate the white ones,” Harry’s saying, and his tone is something Louis can’t figure out, leaving Louis completely in the dark since he can only see the boy’s back right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Louis walks up to him, still keeping the grin on his face and setting hands on the dresser next to him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, and we can drink some black wine—even though it’s really dark red, but,” Louis stammers a bit, messing with the frame on his glasses, before pointing across the room behind him.“And—and also I set up some black paint and canvas paper on my desk over there, so we can paint nonsense blots of nothingness onto them and pretend we’re making deep art.”He laughs hesitantly, feeling Harry’s eyes on the side of his face as he’s still looking back and over to his desk.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s eventually a point where Louis has to bring his face back to meet eyes with him, still not knowing in this moment if there’s a slim possibility that Harry’s absolutely hating this.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wow, I just…” Harry begins, turning to lean his back against the dresser, this time bringing fingers to his mouth in order to mess with his lips and bite on one of his nails, the boy looking down briefly as he kicks a balloon out of the way.“No one’s ever done anything like this for me before.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Just like that, Louis’ body has a little less tension in it, the boy coming to step in front of him, setting his palms against Harry’s chest.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So you like it?” Louis asks quietly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I fucking <em>love </em>it, you—“ Harry begins frustratingly, Louis’ smile already growing in response to it.“You sick, sick person.Now you have me acknowledging my birthday.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis giggles, leaning forth to place his forehead in the boy’s chest.Then he’s reaching behind the boy for the hoodie to his onesie, bringing it over his head and touching their noses.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, then it’s goal accomplished.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s rolling his eyes at him, although endearingly as he’s lifting him up off of his feet without even really trying, his fingers up under Louis’ thighs and Louis caught off guard with laughter as the boy’s taking him the few feet over to the bed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ leaned back on his palms on the bed once Harry’s stood over him, Harry not on the bed but leaned with his hands on either side of Louis’ hips as he plants those admiring eyes down on him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you,” Harry says earnestly.“Even though I should be angry at you right now.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, you can get angry,” Louis’ telling him without missing a beat, laying down more and bringing himself to be leaned back on his elbows more lowly, already knowing that his pants already have Harry halfway there.“You can tell me I’ve been bad, or something.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry seems like he’s torn between being genuinely turned on and hysterical, the boy laughing into his own shoulder as one of his hands slips off of the bed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Louis</em>,” he laughs, as though there’s a different person in front of him right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You’re in the black panther onesie, and I am a weak man,” Louis tells him honestly, kind of wanting to be funny and lighthearted right now but also seriously, kind of with everything in him, wanting Harry to ravish him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Something does seem to catch his eye beyond the boy’s head, that <em>something </em>being the black icing bag that he’d used on the cupcakes, pushed back to the edge of the dresser and not supposed to be there.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ugh—I was supposed to take that back to the kitchen,” Louis pipes up, gesturing at it and scoffing at himself, Harry taking notice of it over his own shoulder.“Now everything’s tacky.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis, I’ve already expressed that I love this party,” Harry tells him, leaping over to the bag and preparing to bring it to his lips.“There’s literally no one else you’re trying to prove anything to.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You should know that’s pretty unhealthy,” Louis can’t resist telling him from where he’s propped up on the bed.“And I just like things to be in place, and <em>right—</em>and oh, now ‘Back to Black’ is playing.Thank you for the <em>great</em> party vibes, Amy,” Louis’ muttering to himself, laying back against the bed and palming his hands to his face, just wishing this wasn’t turning into such a shit show with every passing second.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis, babe.Chill,” Harry’s saying with a chuckle as Louis hears his approach, the boy getting right on top of him a bit clumsily on the bed, body practically threatening to sink Louis’ right through the mattress.  The boy has no regard for his airways.“I love this.I love everything.The fact that you even <em>thought </em>to do this is…it really means a lot.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ first meekly peeking through his fingers, seeing the slivers of the boy’s beaming face, close to his and shining down at him, before the boy’s bringing the icing bag that he <em>still </em>has in his hands and squeezing a bit into his mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Would you put that thing away,” Louis laughs, removing his hands from his face, and Harry only responding in putting a dot of black icing on Louis’ nose.It’s a cute moment, their little two or three seconds of close contemplation, Harry’s eyes flittering between the boy’s eyes and his nose, before he’s inching in and sucking it right off of his nose, bringing Louis’ grin to twitch upward some more.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis tries to bridge the gap between playful and willing as he parts his lips and inches his head in just a bit, just a smidgen of strain to his neck since Harry is taking too long to take charge of the moment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s eventually playing along nicely once he’s squeezing some of the icing into Louis’ mouth next, Louis even bringing his tongue out just a bit more for it, obsessed with the intense way Harry’s watching it with low, furrowed brows and teeth barely sinking into his bottom lip.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s leading with his tongue when he’s sinking down into Louis’ mouth, Louis meeting his tongue with his and already engulfed in the deep, sweet taste of the kiss as his head floats back down to lay comfortably in the bed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ blindly reaching for the icing bag in the boy’s hand that’s by Louis’ head in the midst of their slow kisses.Their wet lips are gently pulling apart once Louis’ taking it from him, Harry picking his head up a bit, simply intrigued by whatever it is Louis’ about to do.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis simply shrugs out his shoulders a bit in order to have more access to his own naked collarbone, exposed due to his large denim jacket, keeping his eyes nowhere but on Harry’s as he gets some of the icing squeezed upon it, Harry’s eyes glued to his skin, as though searching for answers beneath it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s leaning forth to be propped up on his elbows again as the boy is sinking down to his skin with a flat tongue, Louis actually closing his eyes to the feeling of it as he’s more sat up, his skin tingling where Harry’s lapping up the icing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis dots some icing down the center of his chest towards the top that the still buttoned denim allows him, but when Harry’s suctioning his skin with wet, puckered lips and the help of his tongue, Louis’ already working to get his buttons undone, “I Only Wear Black” by the Wombats starting up in his speakers, somewhere quite far away now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">After Harry’s planted enough fiery kisses down the top of Louis’ chest, his tongue is dragging itself back up into Louis’ mouth again after gently ghosting against his neck and jaw on the way up, the boy taking a hold of his jaw, and Louis being made to tilt his head back with the subtle force of the deep kiss.His body is quickly heating up all over as he’s done with his last button and is pushing his jacket further open.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ guessing it’s the desire and intention in his own eyes once their lips are smacking apart, or the way Louis’ jacket is done open seemingly when Harry hadn’t even noticed it was happening, or the way Louis isn’t showing an ounce of restraint when he’s scooting his hips forward for just a chance of meeting Harry’s.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Harry of course conjures up some hesitance, blowing a quiet laugh into the boy’s cheek and merely breathing “Louis”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis tilts his head, just to catch Harry’s eye again and get their foreheads connected.“Harry.Darling,” Louis breathes back.“I know you’ll never say it, or ask, but I know you’ve been wondering if I’m like…<em>there </em>yet.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s fully expected when Harry faintly shakes his head and scoffs, but Louis just brings his fingertips to the bottom of the boy’s cheeks to keep them connected.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Harry.I’m there,” he brings some volume into his low voice now, eyes intense on the boy’s mouth, just wanting the boy to devour him and not knowing how to keep it in anymore.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you sure?” Harry’s asking innocently, even though he stays just as close, warm hands smoothing against Louis’ bare sides right now.“Because I know it <em>is</em> my birthday—I don’t want you to think you—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Harry</em>,” Louis tells the boy, his grin growing just a bit as he takes Harry down with him again, his grip on the boy’s face bringing him in for another kiss. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s reaching out to the side of him for the icing that’d been abandoned, urging it towards the boy’s hands in between them as Harry’s eyes are fluttering open.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He keeps one hand behind the boy’s neck as he gives him sincere eyes that convey that he’s all about this.That he’s sort of <em>been</em> all about this since the first night they kissed, really. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s finally getting more into the idea of it, the boy squeezing a bit of icing down Louis’ chest again, Louis propped back on his elbows and closing his eyes to the cold of it, proceeding to keep them closed to prepare for how Harry glides his tongue against his skin, down the faint ridges of his abdomen.Harry practices less caution as he’s placing wet kisses lower and lower each time, Louis actually a bit conscious of how close he is to the waistline of his pants just because of the hot breaths of Harry’s that stand the hair on his skin in between the saccharine kisses.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy’s lips are sucking at the skin right above the waistline of Louis’ pants, Harry probably not even aware of how tightly his fingers are gripped against Louis’ thighs, just beneath his ass as he gets lost in the act of it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Want you so bad,” is the breath Louis feels against his skin, bringing Louis to pick his head from where it’d been tilted back, reaching for the boy by the back of his neck again, their tongues meeting before their mouths once they’re diving into each other again with no trace of reluctance.The palm of Harry’s hand had immediately gone to the front of Louis’ pants, just applying coaxing pressure there and having Louis feeling dizzy with desire as he lets Harry’s tongue fill his mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s as though everything slowly builds from a small flame after that, their lips interlocked every time they’re coming across each other, in between the heavy, stuttered breaths they can’t control once they find themselves grinding off of each other.Louis had already been halfway there, so the most he can do right now is hold the boy to his chest by his hair as he ruts his hips up against him, Harry having one of his legs hiked up, which is something that Louis absolutely <em>loves</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It becomes pretty uncontrollable, the music fading in Louis’ ears as all he’s hearing is the tune of Harry’s more open mouthed moans that Louis’ never heard from him before, Louis long ago having unzipped the boy’s onesie as he has his hands snug inside of it, fingers nearly scratching down the boy’s lower back as he meets him fervently with his hips in the air, <em>obsessed </em>with the way he can feel Harry through the soft layers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck, I love you,” is what’s stuttered out of Harry’s mouth at some point, their hips thrusting into each other and Louis chasing the tongue of his mouth as the boy had sat up just a bit in order to push Louis’ jacket past his shoulders. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And fuck, Louis can’t take it anymore.Harry doesn’t even get to properly take his jacket off because Louis’ hands are flying to palm Harry’s bare ass where his hands are dug inside his onesie, probably embedding marks in it as he’s making them to grind off on each other with much more aggression, Louis’ nose practically pressed and suffocated against the boy’s chest as he whimpers, jacket hanging low off of his arms with his shoulders bare.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you too,” he manages to breathe out weakly, although it’s a bit drowned out by Harry’s curses into the air.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Louis definitely comes.He’s also not sure if it’s too soon to admit that it was the “I love you” thing that did it in an instant.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re both coming down from it together, Louis’ breaths shaky as he’s not ready to let go of the boy’s ass, although their grinding has slowed down significantly, Louis hypnotized by the careful way Harry gyrates his hips, feeling the hot air of the boy’s lips against his sweaty forehead.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jesus,” Louis’ breathing, only a bit of humor to it as he’s tilting his head up toward the boy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s getting a hand up under his chin and bringing their lips to meet again, the kiss much more lax this time.Louis’ eventually moving them to roll over, getting on top of the boy as he caresses the boy’s wrists against the bed and latches lazy lips to his.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When their lips are more tired than anything, Louis finding a break somewhere where he can just breathe the boy’s air, Harry’s immediately bringing a hand to slide down his own face, Louis quirking his eyebrows up at him with question.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That was too soon, wasn’t it,” the boy mumbles where his hand is now covering his mouth, his eyes still closed.“I’m sorry.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ shaking his head, although it <em>does</em> take him a second or two to figure out what the boy is talking about.He simply cards his fingers through his hair lovingly, urging the boy to open his eyes and grant Louis those green beauties that he dreams about every night.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, it’s perfect.I actually…” Louis swallows, eyes focused on the boy’s collarbone.“Didn’t say what I <em>really</em> meant to say, what I’ve been thinking.”He doesn’t even know why he gets a bit nervous upon voicing himself like that, since it’s not even that big of <em>deal</em> now that they’ve already said they love each other, but now he’s got Harry’s dubious, undivided attention, and he feels like he’s diving into a pool of potentially dangerous substances.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m <em>in</em> love with you, actually,” Louis tells him, the dimple and release of breath from Harry telling Louis that it’s alright.He continues to move his thumb against the boy’s hair, taking in his pinked, curved lips, his round, poked nose, his doe eyes that contain the world inside of them, and he can’t ignore how much that statement is true.“I’m in love with you, Harry.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s whispering back at him, appearing to take the same moment to run his eyes over Louis’ features as well, Louis never having thought that one day someone would look at him so lovingly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m in love with you too, Louis.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And there, Louis is the happiest he’s ever been.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So he sees no reason not to go back to kissing the boy some more, disregarding anything else he may have had to do today, because who the <em>fuck</em> cares. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He even falls into a blissful abyss of deep conversation with Harry (<em>after</em> they get off on each other some more), the both of them sharing thoughts about how they’ve always felt about love, Louis finding out that this is Harry’s first relationship (since he’d never really seen himself as a “relationship guy”), and Louis expressing how he’d never really cared or thought about being in love, so he’d never really imagined it, along with how Harry’s taken him through so many firsts.It’s actually quite a heartening experience as they’re propped up against the pillows and headboard of the bed side by side with the art paper on their laps, painting random figures of black while occasionally sipping wine straight from the bottle, and never wanting to stop hearing each other’s voices.</span>
</p><p class="p1">The talk leans more towards how exceptionally effortless things are going between them as a proper couple, Louis pleased to know that Harry's the same as him where he's absolutely protective against anything that might ruin it.</p><p class="p1">"That's exactly why I'd rather <em>not</em> have all of the boys in on it, with their jokes, and their immaturity, and..." Louis' beginning at some point, getting a bit lost in his thoughts as his brush is dragging down against his art paper with black paint.</p><p class="p1">He can see Harry faintly nodding in his peripheral as he's circling his brush too, although it appears just a bit noncommittal, which is what gets Louis to turn reluctant eyes towards him.</p><p class="p1">"I mean..." Harry's beginning, still focused on his work as Louis studies his profile, his onesie hoodie on and the ears cutely hanging.  "Those kinda things you can't help though.  Can't let it get to you."</p><p class="p1">"I <em>know</em>, but," Louis' beginning, still trying to keep his voice polite even though he's getting frustrated with himself whilst turning back to look at his shapeless black blob.  "I dunno.  This is like...a <em>part </em>of me, an aspect of who I am that I've <em>just</em> made public," he begins, trying to make sense with his words as he brings his shoulders up with it.  "So I don't really want a magnifying glass on it, you know?"</p><p class="p1">Since there's just a minuscule pause in between them, Louis feeling just a bit spread open, he turns his eyes to Harry for reassurance, and of course, there the boy is, meeting his eye too and spreading a caring grin onto his lips, his glorious dimple deepening in his right cheek.</p><p class="p1">"I get it," Harry's replying tenderly, Louis not being able to help reaching out his fingers and pinching smiley panther boy on the cheek.</p><p class="p1">And Louis' comforted by their consistent tendency to be on the same page as each other, to fully understand each other, to always fall in exact sync with each other, that he's perfectly fine continuing easy conversation with him on his bed like this, thinking of how ironic it is that it's <em>Harry's </em>birthday, but Louis feels like he's the one who's gotten the best gift of all.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis only remembers the world outside of them when his nightstand is buzzing with a group call from Zayn and Liam, he discovers after he reaches for it, inquiring about if he's feeling better (to which he responds yes without even thinking), and if he can meet up with them as captains, probably so that they can discuss serious, captain-y stuff. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m, uh…” Louis begins, only barely glancing beside himself at the boy, and Harry choosing this exact moment to poke his <em>wet </em>paint brush at the cold skin of Louis’ neck.It’s pretty involuntary when Louis’ giggling, ignoring the way he can clearly hear a sigh of agitation from Liam on the line.“I’m actually busy right now.Sorry.”It’s clearly said through laughter, Louis not really waiting around for whatever else they might say before he’s shutting the phone off and getting Harry back with a streak of paint to his chin.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Everything between him and Harry is just so…effortless.Like how it used to be when he was a child, and he’d get along with other kids because they were nice, or because their favorite color was red too, or because of anything uncomplicated that would push them together.Harry is simply a breath of fresh air for Louis.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ just finished tying up his right cleat once he’s standing up in the locker room, prepared to head out of here and join the rest of the boys at practice, since he’d arrived a bit late since he and Harry had stayed overtime with the gardening club.Louis is usually already changed before practice and well on his way to meditate, but today he’d had to rush into the locker rooms just as the changing boys were headed out, and he’d instructed Harry to stay in the car for just a bit so that them coming to practice together won’t seem obvious.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They haven’t been holding back as much as a couple everywhere else, and certainly not with the gardening club just a few minutes ago where they were giving each other heart eyes next to the bumble bee habitat.It’s just that the boys on the team had already been so eager and assuming in the first place, so this would prove them right, <em>along</em> with give them something even greater to tease and joke about everyday.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The door to the locker room is heard being pushed open, only making Louis a bit puzzled as he’s stood, but then there the boy is, stepping into the area, the boy that Louis’ in <em>love</em> with, the boy who Louis would stop the world for in an instant.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Still, however, Louis uses the small amount of rational mind he has to scold the boy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Harry,” </em>Louis barely hisses, walking up to the boy with a hand to his chest.“You’re—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They just started their laps, didn’t even see me, it’s fine,” Harry tells him, stepping forth with his forehead coming to ghost Louis’, no regard for the boy’s weak hand against his chest, since it appears he’s determined about something.“Can I suck you off really quick?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The question sucks the air right from Louis, parting his lips and just barely caressing the boy’s shirt where he’d been touching him.“Huh?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s tilting his head just a bit and ghosting his lips against the side of Louis’ head with his words.“Since they just started running we have like, ten minutes.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ inhale is already stuttering at the thought of it, Harry’s eyes coming back in proper position to meet his with question, Louis literally feeling the vibrations of how eager the boy is for it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s so fucking <em>risky</em>, though.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ugh—<em>why</em> is that so tempting?” Louis asks, mostly to himself as he blinks down at his shoes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s taking a tender hold of the boy with both hands at the sides of his arms, gently walking him back with slow steps. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because it’s sneaky, and fun, and dangerous,” Harry’s telling him in a much lower volume, the backs of Louis’ calves having reached one of the long benches in the locker room, Harry’s lips moving to barely touch his jaw as the boy digs a few fingers into the waistband of his jersey shorts.“Now can I please put my mouth on it?” he breathes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And well, Louis is not a man of <em>steel</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Which is why he finds himself sat down on the bench within seconds, Harry getting down on his knees between his legs and getting his jersey shorts and briefs just out of the way enough in order to do what he’s so <em>willing</em> to do. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Harry also goes at it with the exact determination and enthusiasm he’d been displaying for it, Louis genuinely never having felt anything like it before as his head is bumping and rattling the lockers behind him and he’s trying not to buck too much into the boy’s mouth and occasional sliding hand.It’s just the wet sounds of it, in the middle of the empty, echo filled locker room that Louis never in his life imagined he would’ve been doing this in.It’s the choked, almost <em>pleasure</em> filled whimpers from the very back of Harry’s throat as he takes him in, Louis sometimes watching it, sometimes closing his eyes and letting his head fall back against the locker again once that becomes too much.It’s also, just like Harry’d claimed, the sneaky, fun, <em>dangerousness</em> of it that has Louis over the edge pretty quickly, Harry at one point yanking one of the boy’s hands toward his head, Louis getting the message to hold him down.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He feels it pooling at the bottom of his gut, not being able to stop from groaning the boy’s name in between the fingers he bites down on—the fingers of Harry’s that he’d brought up into Louis’ mouth at some point. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then Louis’ coming, right in the middle of the locker room, exceptionally loud if anyone were right by the door, and shaking down from it for a pretty long time as Harry keeps sucking just to torture him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Oh my god</em>,” Louis’ breathing, unknowingly yanking the boy’s hair strands due to his sensitivity, bringing Harry to lift his head and his shiny lips off of him.“C’mere.”He caresses the boy’s face from down below, bringing him up and giving him a rather sloppy kiss.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck, I wish we had more time, I’d find a way to thank you,” Louis purrs against his lips, Harry sliding himself into his lap.  Just the <em>faint </em>way Louis can feel Harry beginning to strain against his pants makes Louis throw caution to the wind.“Fuck it.”And Harry’s letting out a tiny giggle of surprise as Louis’ quickly unbuttoning his pants and jerking them forward by the fabric—</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then the door to the locker room is being heard opening again, which is nothing but hazardous since Louis and Harry are already <em>here</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry and Louis had moved quickly in order to get themselves together, Harry having rolled off the boy’s lap, and Louis putting everything back into his pants and making sure his shorts are comfortable at his waist.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When the face that’s peeking past the corner is Niall’s, just a little timid, probably from having heard all the panicked shuffling that’d been going on, an avalanche of alleviation washes over Louis as he physically releases a deep breath.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Jesus</em>—it’s just you,” Louis says, turning to his right where Harry's just finished re-buttoning his pants and quickly transitions to frantically drumming his fingers against his thighs with big obvious eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I’d just forgot my…” Niall begins, walking over to his locker and opening it slowly as he eyes them.“Inhaler.‘Sup, Harry.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Hey," is how Harry responds, as casually as he can muster, even though he's uncertain in all of his movements as he’s ruffling up his own hair, seeming to blink mechanically, and trying to normalize his breathing since he'd just been in the midst of a heated moment.“I’m just…hanging.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The flustered state of Harry seems to amuse Niall just a bit once he’s gotten his inhaler, now resting his back against the closed locker.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I walked in on something, didn’t I?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>No—</em>“ Louis starts, way too fast and putting a hand out to Harry’s chest out of instinct.“We were just talking.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">For a second, Louis thinks there’s no way that Niall can’t immediately tell that the boy’s a dishonest wreck, but it seems like he’s just too delighted by the presence of them together, since after all, the boy has made a continuous deal out of how he’s the only one that knows.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Awww, </em>I just can’t believe it!” Niall says excitedly, arms extended as he gestures toward them from the opposite side of the locker room.“Two of my buds, who could <em>not</em> be anymore different, <em>dating </em>each other!I feel like a proud mother.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Niall, I’m pretty sure neither of us would be surviving this long if you were anything like a mother to us,” Harry retorts, the dumb happy look wiped off of Niall’s face as he scoffs at the boy, waving him off as he starts toward the way to leave again. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Anyway, I’ll leave you to your honeymooning.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And with that, he’s disappearing past the entrance wall, his footsteps heard before the door is opened and closed again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And for some reason, out of all the things he’d said, there’s one word that sounds a bit sour in Louis’ ears. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <em>Honeymooning.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck, that was close,” Harry’s saying, bringing Louis to look at him, Harry gazing ahead and over at nothing, clearly still recovering from their scramble to get themselves together.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know.I’m still shaking a bit,” Louis replies, lifting his right hand in the air which is, indeed, sporting a faint tremble.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry turns to watch his hand, his lips curving a bit when he's meeting Louis' gaze again.  "If it would've been any of the other boys there would've been no way to explain this."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"I <em>know</em>," Louis replies, having thought about the same thing.  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Guess I'll have to suck you off inside one of the lockers next time."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis' joking when he replies, even though being more careful in the future <em>would</em> be helpful.  "That would be smart, yeah."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Perfectly normal relationship stuff, what we're doing here," Harry says, and it sounds pretty lighthearted and neutral, but there's also this hint of <em>something </em>to his tone, especially since Louis is pretty accustomed to how he conveys subtle feelings through the way he talks.  Maybe just a speck of displeased sarcasm?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But eventually there’s a tiny twitch to his lips when he's darting his eyes back down to Louis' mouth and they're having a moment, a twitch that Louis knows all too well, bringing Louis to nip the idea of “going again” in the bud before the boy can even open his mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Go out on the field, horndog,” Louis says, shoving at the boy’s shoulder, and getting a disgruntled but fond “okay, okay”, the boy pressing an innocent kiss and a “love you” to Louis’ forehead before he’s stumbling out to leave.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Louis is ready to take even <em>longer </em>to just stall in this locker room now in order to cover their tracks, not even granting any thoughts to how it might be getting a bit ridiculous, their efforts to hide this whole thing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And also <em>honeymooning.</em>Louis’ going to try not to think about that.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Can’t believe this is the one we’d planted together that first time I came,” Harry says, his voice soft and wondrous as they’re both kneeled in the grass, right in the student garden in front of the Tiger Lillies that he and Harry had put fertilizer and seeds down for weeks ago.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know,” Louis agrees, eyes sparkling at the beauteous scorching flower.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His mind conjures up an idea as he’s reaching out for the plant—<em>not</em> pulling the entire thing out because it looks too sacred and perfect and unperturbed, but plucking away a single petal as he turns toward the boy next to him, tucking it right into his hair and behind his ear.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s dimples are light and bright as he ducks his head.“I love when you put flowers in my hair.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis leans forth, just full on nuzzling his nose to the boy’s in what’s usually called an eskimo kiss.“Then I guess I’ll just have to keep doing that forever.”He finds nothing unusual about inching forth and catching the boy’s lips between his briefly, because that’s just how second nature it’s become to them these days.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it’s the call of his name once their lips pull apart that has Louis’ mind reminded of where they are (gardening club), and the fact that yes, they’ve given each other endless googly eyes with these folk, and have been glued to each other’s sides with hands that can’t remove themselves from one another’s arms, and waists, and hands, but they’d never kissed in front of the bunch.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Louis’ turning his attention toward Rosalie, who had called him, where she’s standing with about three other members of the club from afar, the lot of them looking tired, sweaty, with dirt stained foreheads since they’d been working on pulling weeds.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yep,” Louis’ answering once he’s pushed himself to stand up and walked his way over to them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Are you dating Harry?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ eyebrows are made to raise just a bit, since he definitely hadn’t been expecting that question.But it doesn’t take long for the notion to make him gleam again with a smile, as though he’d been waiting to burst with it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, isn’t it <em>great?</em>”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although he isn’t met with smiles as bright as his, the grins are tight lipped and cordial as Rosalie’s looking to Amy next to her, her hand that’s still holding a digging knife being placed on her hip.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, but…” she begins, hesitant for a moment before she’s reaching an arm out, her hand coming right upon Louis’ shoulder, and Louis instantly being made to feel doubtful of this whole entire interaction.“It’s starting to make you suck at this.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis parts his lips genuinely, because this is coming from nowhere—and is even <em>agreed</em> upon as the others are nodding halfheartedly, some timid as though they don’t want to hurt Louis’ feelings.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’re just saying—we’ve been pulling weeds over there, and you’ve been sitting in the flowers with your boyfriend—your horrible gardener of a boyfriend, by the way—for like, <em>half </em>an hour,” Amy’s chiming in, seemingly fed up with it as she steps up and crosses her arms.“It never used to be like this with you.You’ve forgotten that caring for nature is the most important part of this whole thing.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, so—“ Louis begins, pushing his glasses up his nose.“So I need to stop taking so many boyfriend breaks, got it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once he’s met with more uncertain silence, Louis’ brows are furrowing with a mixture of confusion and frustration, because he’s not sure what they want from him exactly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What, you want me to stop bringing him?” Louis asks disbelievingly, laughter falling from his lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He’s bringing us down during these club meetups,” Rosalie says truthfully.“I mean, it’s clear he doesn’t actually care about it anyway.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You don’t know that—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Louis</em>.Just take a second to think about the good of the club for a moment.As <em>VP,</em>” Amy says, surprisingly being the more blunt one in this conversation as she fixes serious eyes on Louis.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis glances behind himself over to Harry, the boy sat in the grass and toying with the petal in his hair as he doesn’t seem to be paying attention to them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay.Okay I’ll think about it,” Louis says, because he’s always been a mostly agreeable person, so there’s no reason why his traits should change now.It’s not like he’s <em>blinded </em>by his love for Harry and the fact that he thinks everything he does is perfect.He will genuinely think about it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He lets them know that he’ll join them to pull the weeds in about five minutes, the rest of them giving him caring nods and hugs (in order to ensure they weren’t trying to hurt his feelings, he guesses), but Rosalie is the one who turns back to him for a few last words, just gripping his arm gently.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Also Louis…” she begins, eyes low and voice quiet.“I just want you to be careful with this one.I don’t know him, except for the fact that he got busted for weed last school year—but I know <em>you</em>, and I know the values you usually align with.I don’t want you to get sucked too fast into something that changes you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">She doesn’t really wait for Louis’ response, which is good because Louis is slow at forming one, and she’s just patting his arm once before giving him a warm grin and starting away.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What Louis’ feeling could honestly be a combination of puzzlement, along with fury, along with frustration, along with being in love (since that’s kind of what he’s always feeling beneath anything).</span>
  <span class="s1">So all he does is stifle it with closed lips, turning back towards where Harry’s awaiting him with shiny eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He simply asks his boyfriend if he can go get some cauliflower from the grocery store for their vegan cuisine night tonight (it’s something they try out every Thursday) and meet him back at his apartment, since the grocery store closes in thirty minutes (a lie) and he doesn’t wanna miss it tonight.And the sweet, angelic boy complies, just making sure Louis will have someone to drop him by the apartment later, because he’s just a sweet, angelic boy who cares more than anyone else could ever understand and deserves everything in the world.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>ugh this is too happy time2get real</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know you can tell me anything, right?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The wind seems to be just a bit louder than Louis’ voice as they’re bicycle riding the empty streets at night, Louis behind Harry with arms around his waist and Harry pumping his legs rhythmically, providing them with a smooth cruise.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Huh?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m saying you can tell me anything,” Louis repeats, not raising his voice but placing his lips closer to Harry’s ear as he snuggles in closer.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I already tell you everything.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis smiles into the boy’s shoulder at that, because Harry always knows the right thing to say.Always does the <em>opposite </em>of what Louis may find himself paranoid about, overthinking himself into oblivion about.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s just that…I know this whole relationship thing has happened kinda fast,” Louis tells him.“Just let me know if you have any concerns, or thoughts that may be hard to say, or…anything.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The silence is pretty loud to Louis as they sail through the night time, not another soul being seen or heard nearby as Louis’ heart is thumping in his chest.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nope.I’ve got nothing.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And there, Louis tried.Just in case the boy had been having doubts, he just wanted to open the floor to him.Make sure they hadn’t been rushing into things.There should be nothing up in the air about that now.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright, are you guys ready to kick some Meerkat <em>ass</em> today?” Louis’ asking, his tone entirely high in pitch with enthusiasm as he’s pumping his fists in the air.He’d spoken as he’s walking up to Liam and Zayn on the soccer field, the match about to start in a little over two hours, and the boys having been talking closely.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I dunno, are you?” Liam asks, the sternness of it throwing Louis a bit as he blinks with lowered fists.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Duh, I am,” Louis replies, a bit of question to his expression.“Although we probably have to switch around the freshmen a bit before we—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Actually, we’ve already done that,” Liam interrupts, hands on his hips as he looks down at his cleats that he’s kicking against the ground.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ hands are fully lowered by his side now, his face growing blank as he looks between them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We met up without you, Louis,” Zayn says easily with a shrug, running his fingers through his dark hair.“‘Cause you’ve been a flaky excuse for a team co-captain.No offense.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ taking in air into his mouth as his eyebrows raise, ready and aimed to be offended, before Liam beats him to it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s going on, Louis?” he asks sincerely, his tone showing that he just simply <em>cares</em>, regardless of if it has to do with the team or not.“What <em>is</em> it that’s got a hold on you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ stammering with opening and closing lips, everything coming out of left field right now as he tugs at his sleeves with opposite hands.“Nothing, I just…I dunno.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The dissatisfaction with his answer is shown in the way they both sigh, Zayn not holding back in rolling his eyes, before going into a low, cool mumble about how Louis needs to find balance with whatever it is he’s got going on in his personal life and soccer.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But far beyond Zayn’s shoulder, near the entrance of the soccer field gate can Louis see Harry—and no, he’s not tuning the boys in front of him out because it’s Harry, but <em>also </em>because it’s Coach Branden, and he’s giving Harry a bag check. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’d told Louis about them—just the way Coach will routinely check his bags and items just to make sure he’s not carrying any “prohibited campus substances”, but the one thing Louis remembers Harry saying is that Coach lets him know in advance when he plans to do it, because Coach Branden actually <em>does</em> somewhat look out for and care about him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Harry’d mentioned no such thing today.<em>Actually, </em>this morning while they were in bed, he’d been on the phone with some <em>Theodore</em> guy who was claiming he’d get some from Harry during the match, so he knows for a <em>fact</em> this is an impromptu, random search.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And holy <em>fuck</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Louis</em>,” Liam’s saying, stepping in front of the boy, right in the view of where Louis’ gaze had been zoning out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, I’m <em>sorry</em>,” Louis lets out desperately, absolutely torn right now between literally watching Harry’s <em>fate</em>, and Liam’s unhappy, stoic eyes in front of him, hopelessly trying to get Louis’ head back in the right place.He decides to shake everything out—his hands, his head, adjusting his glasses, setting his attention right on the boys in front of him as he steps to be more front and center of them.“I am <em>here</em> now, my mind is <em>here</em>.I promise I’ll be right back on top of it starting now.What do you need me to do?I’ll do it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s like a miracle when his order of duty is to inform some of the freshmen of their switched positions, because this has Louis headed in the direction of the bench where many of them currently reside to rest and converse and chill out and whatnot, and Louis’ telling each of them with the speed of lightning.He makes sure to receive understood nods from each of them after he tells them <em>twice</em>, just for good measure.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then he’s going right over to sit by Harry, who’s surprisingly on the bench at his usual spot, casual and with no words for anyone as he’s putting things back into his duffle bag that Coach had probably pulled out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Is everything okay?I saw you over there—did he <em>find</em> anything?” Louis asks, fingers itching to reach out and grip the boy’s thigh.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Someone in the sky loves me,” is how Harry replies, just a bit of a tremor to his laugh as he stuffs his duffle bag.“Because Theodore had something come up and couldn’t make it to the match, so he met me in the student lounge, right before I’d gotten in my car to come here.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis knows Harry.He knows that his faint dimples and tiny grin, along with his big eyes and carefully moving hands is a defense mechanism, but still,he can’t help that it almost properly infuriates him to not see the boy taking this as seriously as he should be.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Harry.</em>Do you <em>not </em>realize how close that was?” Louis tells him, stern and powerful and actually getting some of the boys to briefly flit their eyes in their direction.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Louis</em>,” Harry says right back, Louis disliking the way he’s sort of mocking him.“I’ve already <em>told</em> you that I know the consequences, and the risks, and the danger, and all that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So what?” Louis asks, shrugging one shoulder.“If you get caught, you get caught?If you get expelled, you get expelled?If <em>whoever</em> catches you decides to call the cops, you just get arrested?And—and you just go away forever, and like, who cares about <em>me</em>, or like <em>anything—“</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my god, Louis.<em>No</em>,” Harry’s responding, a bit exasperatedly as though Louis is tiring him out, the sight of it feeling like a weight to Louis’ chest, causing him to close his mouth and just barely grind his teeth together, trying to suppress the lump in his throat.“When have I ever said <em>any</em> of that?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis doesn’t say anything as Harry’s giving him these weary, grayed out eyes.Louis genuinely has no idea how to embrace the fact that he’s getting angry right now, while also knowing that Harry’s the one person in the world he never wants to get angry at.He’s pretty sure Harry can even see his inner conflict as Louis’ leg is bouncing due to his restless foot, before Louis’ just shaking his head and pushing himself to stand up, Harry only faintly calling his name once from behind him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He simply tries to wipe his mind clean of the situation as he walks back over to join Liam and Zayn, just in case they have anything else they need him to do.Thankfully, they do, and now Louis can spend the rest of this evening, and match, and eventually night, thinking about anything other than this bullshit.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They win the match, and it’s bittersweet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s bittersweet because it’s no thanks to Louis.Louis actually doesn’t think he’s scored one goal in the last two games, and in this one, his constant state of being distracted, or accidentally sending the ball into the wrong hands, didn’t get him any closer to making a goal either. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But the way his team is once again able to hear the glorious roar from the stands, and jump around him, and be in somewhat <em>harmony </em>once again when it seemed like they were falling apart, makes up for a lot of it once the time has run out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Within the sea of bodies, it’s usual that Louis will eventually find Harry and join him in a hug that’s only three seconds long and not a second more, and tonight it’s pretty much the same, except when Louis’ pressing his sweaty body into the boy’s, he’s immediately mumbling into his neck, “I’m sorry for getting mad at you”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry for not getting mad <em>enough</em>,” Harry’s saying quickly right back, holding him just as tight and the hug definitely moving past three seconds, the interaction obviously having been weighing on both of their minds since the moment it happened.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">That’s literally all they had to do.That’s all they <em>have</em> to do, because they’re a pretty simple couple, and Louis’ understanding that now.He’s understanding that as Harry’s then moving to give the other boys congratulatory clasps of hands, as everyone’s helping themselves to the abundance of snacks and water he regularly brings to these things like the awesome team assistant he is.Simple is exactly how it should be.Arguments and fights aren’t really necessary.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When the team is triumphantly headed toward the locker room as usual for some post-match pep talks, Harry and Louis are at the back of the heap filing in, before Harry holds Louis back by his bicep right before he’s about to enter, bringing Louis to turn around right toward him, floating right into Harry’s awaiting lips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The door has closed behind the last player, and Louis doesn’t pay mind to anything else except pressing the boy into the brick behind him, caressing his face with both hands, feeling the boy’s hands come up warmly behind his waist to pull him in, and just kissing him.It’s something he can never get tired of.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wanna go to Zayn’s place after?” Louis’ asking cutely against his lips, their fronts still pressed together with how Harry’s hugging the sweaty boy to himself.“It’ll be a much more chill celebration—most of it’ll be just the team.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um…” Harry begins, hands less firm as he loosens his hold around Louis’ waist a smidge, Louis’ forearms on the boy’s shoulders.“I’ll have to think about it a bit.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Louis' not sure, but it <em>seems </em>the boy may be holding something back here.Louis shows the quiet question on his face as he tilts his head at the boy, Harry looking directly at his nose and <em>definitely </em>holding something back.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Actually, can I be honest with you right now?” Harry asks, something dropping from Louis’ heart all the way to his toes once the boy says it, and he doesn’t even know why.“Because I love you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although it takes Louis a moment, letting his hands down from the boy’s shoulders (just in case) and nodding steadily, trying not to make it too obvious, the way he swallows whatever’s building in his throat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh…” Harry begins, one of his hands leaving Louis’ waist as he itches at his nose, before finally meeting eyes with Louis again.“Me and Zayn hooked up.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Immediately, Louis’ face sort of goes frozen with the words, his guts still at his toes and his mind feeling as though he’s just gotten spun around fifty times. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh,” is all he starts with, since it’s the most he can say without cracking like an egg.He still forces one more word out anyway, nodding a few times.“Okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s chuckle is stuttered as he’s resting back against the wall again.“Yeah, it was pretty long ago, so,” Harry continues, before quickly adding on “<em>before </em>us, of course”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And yes, this grants Louis with just a <em>bit </em>of ease, since he had wholeheartedly been between thinking this was a cheating confession, or just a simple confession.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Long ago?” Louis asks in repeat, just for clarity whilst he has an eyebrow raised.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Long</em> ago,” Harry assures him, leaning forth and nodding with everything in him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Regardless, this is a lot of information to process.It’s a lot of processing that Louis can’t even begin to organize right now.But still, he’s glad Harry told him.<em>That’s</em> probably why he’d been on the fence about going to Zayn’s place, so now that it’s in the air, he won’t feel so guilty by omitting information. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He <em>does</em> wonder why Harry is just telling him now, but it’s fine.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He also wonders why Zayn had brought up the idea of experimenting when he’d already hooked up with Harry, but Louis will not dwell on the inner-workings of a Malik mind.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” Louis’ finally saying, forcing a small grin on his lips and physically willing himself to keep eye contact right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Cool,” Harry responds, as though he’d been just a bit nervous of how Louis would take it, before he’s looking to his right, towards the open area of field and fans past this dark space.“I’m gonna go um, remind Coach he’s got a team in here waiting for him.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You go do that,” Louis breathes with half a hum of laughter, patting the boy on his arm.Harry is then leaning forth to kiss him on the cheek before making his way off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is the first time in a while Louis has had to utilize his meditation technique outside of his sessions.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>In…out…in…out</em>, is all that’s repeated in his head as he stares at the brick Harry had once been in front of, just trying to get himself to be calm and collected before he turns around and enters this locker room.Because there’s nothing to be freaking out about right now.No reason to be feeling whatever it is he’s fucking <em>feeling </em>right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ eventually entering, the usual atmosphere of the boys, in their joking, deliriously happy, roughhousing states as they slam each other against lockers, and reminisce over some great points during tonight’s match, and praise each other endlessly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Damn Louis, where are you just now coming from?” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The question comes from Byron, noticing Louis after the boy has long sat down at the one edge of the bench in the locker room that’s left, no one else having acknowledged him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Probably with the secret <em>boyfriend</em> he's hiding from everyone,” James teases loudly, getting the boys interested as they coo annoyingly, some even making obscene thrusting moves.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis doesn’t even have it in him to shoot them down like he usually does—although the main thing that gets to him is Zayn just chuckling a bit along with them, sat on the edge of a separate bench perpendicular and closest to Louis and clearly not being able to hold it in.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Zayn</em>,” Louis whines, since the boy is usually a defender of him (and also because <em>maybe </em>subconsciously he just wants to attack him for the sake of attacking him, but that's beside the point).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry, but with how you’ve been,” the boy begins cooly, pulling his cleats off one after the other to reveal his black fuzzy socks.“You’ve gotta be fucking someone.You’ve <em>gotta</em> be.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, it’s why you’ve been all fucking bubbly and playing like shit,” Sam adds bluntly, some of the boys laughing and making sure Louis knows it’s a joke, although somewhere beyond he can hear Niall telling them to knock it off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ask Zayn.He was like a clumsy golden retriever after he’d fulfilled his little <em>experiment</em> thing,” Garrell is adding with a mocking tone and usage of air quotes, the words immediately coming to Louis with what feels exactly like whatever a gentle whiplash could be described as, because Louis' suddenly feeling like something isn't adding up in his mind, like something isn't sitting right, and he can't figure out <em>why</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nuh-<em>uh</em>,” Zayn retorts, throwing a stray dirty sock at the boy across the room as some continue to tease him, and others are genuinely questioning the fact that he'd gone through with experimenting, because apparently, this isn't general knowledge.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis cuts through the noise, however, still not being able to organize the scrambled junk in his mind, but his lips somehow finding the words they want to say.  His voice is low and only for the boy nearest to him when he utters it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">"With who?" Louis asks, trying to keep his tone simple as the noise continues around them.</p><p class="p1">Zayn's turning toward him with an eyebrow barely raised, although there's still a mellowness to his gaze whilst he leans down on one of his elbows, more properly faced to Louis.  "Since you're not childish like the others, I guess I'll tell you," he begins, sighing at the rest of them briefly.  "It was the water boy."</p><p class="p1">And now, the whiplash is a lot less gentle.  It's actually like a <em>punch </em>the way Louis feels it in his chest, although he doesn't react that way as his face is simply unmoving while he keeps his gaze directed on Zayn, because<span class="s1">—</span><em>what?</em></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?” is what Louis finds himself asking, quiet amidst the chaos, but heard by Zayn, who sits near him, not thinking anything of it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh, um.Remember?  When I'd said I'd wanted to experiment, and we had that whole discussion,” Zayn tells him, rolling out his ankle as he has it crossed over his thigh and wrongfully thinking he needs to refresh Louis on the events.  And the way he’s so naturally attractive in all of his movements is actually starting to <em>piss</em> Louis the <em>fuck</em> <em>off</em> right about now.“Harry’s fulfilled that.He’s a pretty chill dude.”He’s mostly shrugging to himself, thinking back on it nonchalantly.“As for the guy on guy aspect…probably just something to do when I’m bored.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>What?” </em>Louis asks again, more clearly incredulous this time and immediately bringing Zayn to double take at him, taking in how serious he’s growing.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Dude…are you—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I need a specific date,” Louis says sharply, gesturing in a “hurry up” motion with his hands, the locker room growing quieter around them, since Louis is speaking in a more brash manner than he ever has.“Like when—exactly <em>when</em>, what day, what time, what <em>place—“ </em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um—“ Zayn begins, more ruffled than Louis’ seen him in a while as he lifts his hands uselessly and thinks about it.“I don’t even remember?<span class="Apple-converted-space">  His place?  </span>Like, maybe it was on—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Zayn</em>,” Louis presses harshly, rising to his feet—not in an intimidating fashion, because that’s not who Louis is, more so because he’s restless with not knowing, and needing the boy to understand that he demands answers <em>now</em>.“I need <em>exacts</em>, okay?<em>Specifics.</em>Are you still doing it?You and Harry?<em>”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Holy shit, why do you even care?” the boy asks, loud eyes up at him as though Louis is freaking out like some madman.Even still, his tone remains chill and even a bit laughing as he pushes his words out.“It’s not like he’s your boyfriend, or something.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“He <em>is</em> my boyfriend, you fucking—“ Louis begins, erupting with it as he runs his fingers back through his hair and presses his eyes tightly closed, the locker room completely silent around him.“<em>Fuck!Fuck </em>all of you.”The last word is a bit whimpered towards its end, Louis moving out of this stupid place and shoving past a team member he doesn’t even look at as he’s moving towards the stalls, just wanting to be away from it all and never looked at again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He finds himself simply opening a stall and entering inside of it before closing it behind himself, not even trying to hear the quiet, concerned murmurs that are now coming about between the boys, and instead just focusing on not sniffling.Maybe he’ll use this small space to get some meditation in while his entire team is just a few feet away.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It happened after Zayn’d wanted to experiment.That’s just about right on <em>top</em> of their first date and not at all fucking <em>long ago</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At Harry's fucking <em>place</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And actually, now that Louis’ mind has decided to torture him with photographic memory, the image of Harry, just barely having his front door opened to Louis as he accepted the date, is tattooing itself to Louis’ head. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Zayn had <em>been </em>there, most likely.At a time where he thought he and Harry liked each other. At a time where all Louis could think about was their first kiss at the frat house, and absolutely nothing and no <em>one </em>else.The feeling right now is nothing short of disgust.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even though they weren’t together, weren’t tied to anything, Louis cannot <em>ignore</em> the actual, genuine <em>hurt</em> he’s feeling from the thought of it.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  He doesn't even know if Harry had intentionally told somewhat of a <em>lie</em> to him, or if the boy was earnest in considering something like that to be way in the past, or—Louis doesn't fucking <em>know</em>.  </span>It’s just the <em>carelessness </em>of it, the way the boy was unable to tell Louis until this very moment even though they see Zayn everyday, the way Louis thought “long ago” meant <em>super </em>long ago, way before Louis was even in the picture and—it’s just fucking devastating, kind of.How little Harry gives a shit.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He just stays in there, quiet and still as the boys clearly decide not to bother him and slowly regain volume in whatever it is they want to talk about (even though his name is clearly a part of it—Zayn continuously claiming “I didn’t know”).And then Coach is there, and none of them are telling him where Louis is, leading him to just go ahead and give his talk, Louis wondering if Harry’s out there too now, just halfheartedly listening to the speech and subtly looking around for where his boyfriend is.Louis just honestly doesn’t want to see him right now.He’s pretty certain the only thing that will do is make him burst right into tears.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once the team has departed from the locker room for the night, and Louis slowly lets himself out of the stall once he’s sure the coast is clear, he’s both grateful, but also twinged with dread at the fact that Harry’s not out there.The boys obviously hadn’t told him that Louis had stuffed himself into a stall, which is understandable, considering the news of them even being together is still quite fresh.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis keeps his sniffling to a minimum as he goes over and scoops up the only sports bag left that’s his, just throwing it over his shoulder and starting out of the locker room with absolutely no idea of how he’s about to deal with this.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">On a regular day, in a regular situation, Louis would completely avoid this, avoid Harry where he’s near the stands with a lot of the lingering teammates about to head over to Zayn’s place, the boy just all fine and dandy as he laughs with Richardson about something unimportant.</span> <span class="s1"><em>Clearly</em> no one has informed him of his boyfriend’s little breakdown, although the careful eyes and side conversations indicate just the quiet tension of it, probably none of them knowing how to go about it.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And maybe Louis has evolved from the person who avoids difficult confrontation, because his steps are simply bringing him right towards the boy.It’s natural, the way much of the team goes quiet as Louis’ stepping up to him, all of them probably thinking some shit’s about to go down and waiting on the tips of their toes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis doesn’t know what emotion it is to be confused, angry, heartbroken, and frustrated at the same time, but that has to be exactly what his face is showing as his eyes are building with wetness once he stops with just about three feet between him and the boy.Harry had hesitantly ended his conversation upon noticing Louis’ approach, and now he’s looking a bit lost right now, especially since they both have everyone’s undivided attention.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um…” Harry begins, looking around just a bit and then back at Louis.“…what?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">And nope.  He hasn't evolved.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis simply shakes his head, stalking past the boy and almost taking out his shoulder in passing as he powers towards the fence, not really knowing how to deal with this without having a fucking emotional meltdown.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He can hear the boy eventually following from far behind as Louis is being told “good game” by a few fans he passes by as he heads toward the parking lot, but he doesn’t stop his feet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis, <em>Louis</em>,” Harry’s saying, catching up to him and placing a gentle hand on his shoulder once Louis has stopped by his car to dig in his pockets for his keys.“Babe, what did I do?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis can’t even bring his mouth and throat to be clear enough to conjure up the words, setting his jaw tight and just staring forth with blurry, reddened eyes as the boy stands beside him looking at his profile, lost and silent.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You…” Louis begins with furrowed brows, choking just a bit.“<em>Long ago?</em>After we kissed, Harry?And he was <em>there </em>when I—“He can’t control himself when he’s fully turning towards the boy, the boy’s hand sliding off of his shoulder with the jerking movement.“<em>Zayn</em>, Harry?My fucking <em>teammate</em>?Do you not fucking care about <em>anything</em>?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s lips are parting, and Louis’ genuinely never seen such a look of having the rug pulled from underneath him as he’s almost even similar to a fish with how he’s gaping.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I…I literally <em>told</em> you—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Right around when we started dating is not <em>long ago </em>to me, Harry,” Louis says with air quotes, his voice barely there as a single tear falls.“And I’m pretty sure you know that.You know Zayn is actually something of my <em>friend</em>, right?Or do you just not care when it comes to that—just, I guess you might as well tell me who you’ve hooked up with while we’ve been together.Because I don’t really have a grasp on what you deem as okay.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s taking in a gentle breath, something sincere and almost devastated sprinkling across his face as he takes a step back.“<em>No one…</em>I—you really think I’d—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t <em>know,</em> Harry!That’s the thing!” Louis fires back with wide arms.“Because I don’t fucking know with you.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  But what I <em>do</em> know is y</span>ou only told me because you thought it was going to get out.”He finds himself choking even more, not being able to contain it as he wipes at his eyes just a bit, not even able to look at the boy anymore, since Harry is starting to look guilty more than anything.Because that was <em>exactly </em>the case.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And that’s just…it’s really fucking mean,” Louis’ letting out weakly, rubbing a hand over his nose and trying not to break into a full on sob.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s wordless as his hands are uselessly at his sides, and if Louis were to pay close attention enough he’d think the boy’s eyes have just a hint of shiny to them too, but that doesn’t matter.Louis’ the one hurt right now.Louis’ the one who feels like he’s just been thrown into an icy cold lake against his will.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So…” Harry begins, shaking his head and dryly huffing.“What, is this…are—are you breaking up with me, or something?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ head is moving side to side before he can even contemplate the question, although his right hand is fiercely rubbing up and down his left arm whilst he can no longer look the boy in the eye.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, I’m…I’m just,” Louis sighs, sniffling once and just <em>feeling </em>the hurt Harry’s displaying right now.“I’m not breaking up with you.I guess I’m just realizing I need some time.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He eventually has to not be a wimp and bring his eyes up to Harry after there are eons of silence, and the boy’s eyes are completely out of it, glossed over to another dimension as he purses his lips together, slowly nodding and seemingly dissociating.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m basically feeling what it’s like to be heartbroken,” Louis continues, just for the sake of providing more explanation to Harry.“And I wanna take a minute to myself to process it, okay?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy’s nodding some more, digging his hands into the pockets of his pants as he shifts on his feet a bit, eyes still focused on nothing as Louis keeps his sad gaze on all of it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Noted,” he replies, hardly any sound to it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis sees no use in stomping on both of their hearts any further, especially since the team has slowly emerged from the field toward the parking lot in order to check on things from afar, and they’ve also gotten the attention of a few people nearby who are also in the process of getting into their cars.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So he just nods at the boy with one more sniffle, before turning towards his car and getting his door open in order to let himself inside.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis closes the car door behind himself, simply sitting in the driver’s seat and bringing back his mantra of <em>i</em><em>n…out…in…out</em>, even though it’s not stopping the tears in his eyes and the stutter of his breaths. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Or the knocking on his window from right beside him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The most Louis can grant the boy are his welling eyes and the shaking of his head, not being able to do it right now as he moves to finally start his car. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He can’t do this right now.Nope.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>soz</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis doesn’t even know how to do this.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is definitely one of those times where Louis wishes he’d kind of had experience with this whole dating thing before Harry, but it’s alright.He had to get his first <em>somewhere</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s currently coping with it the best way he knows how, by getting his head back into the zone and buckling down on some schoolwork that honestly, has been piling up.And somehow he hadn’t even <em>noticed </em>it, because he is truly <em>slumped </em>right now as he’s at his desk in his bedroom, actually having to <em>teach </em>himself some concepts that he doesn’t remember even <em>learning</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even though Louis has gotten a lot done today, and gotten back to people he’d continuously been putting off reaching out to, this shit is still <em>hard.</em>Because it’s like, for the first time in weeks, he and Harry aren’t perpetually texting.They often didn’t even talk about anything important over text, but there was just always a text, or a missed call, or <em>something </em>waiting for Louis when he picked up his phone.And now he hasn’t spoken a word to the boy since last night.Even though he’d asked for it, it feels unnatural.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s just that, Louis doesn’t know how to talk to the one person he always wants to talk to, who’s also the one person who’s just hurt his feelings really really <em>really</em> badly.Like, Louis can get chest pains if he thinks about it too much.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So he just drowns himself in school work, and taking notes, and reading chapters, even occasionally calling in with a few of his classmates in order to get clarity on some of the assignments and subjects.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And soon it’s one in the morning. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he only knows because his phone buzzes on his desk for the first time in a while, Louis rubbing his tired, bagged eyes before he reaches for it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And there’s not even much to see on it, honestly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b>Harry: </b> <em>?</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it’s still a lot for Louis, who’s just now realizing he’s sat at this desk for eight hours.And had secretly wanted something, just <em>anything</em>.Even if it meant the boy was going against what Louis had asked for.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">At this point Louis’ extremely tired, already having been just a drop of his heavy head from passing out right at his desk, so he’s giving in when he’s preparing to text the boy back.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><b>Louis:</b> <em>come here</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It only takes five minutes for Louis to hear knocking from his front door, Louis pushing himself up from his desk where he’d nearly been asleep.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s dragging himself out of his room and across the entirety of his apartment in order to open the front door, every ounce of tiredness in his bones being a combination of stress, misery, and heartbreak.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And yet still, a part of him lights up from the inside at the sight of the boy standing outside of his door, still in his socks, and swinging his arms back and forth as he presses his fist to his palm uncertainly.  Harry's eyes also have this unmistakable faint ring of darkness around them, and honestly, Louis is probably sporting the exact same bags under his, the both of them most likely having let out a good deal of tears by now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We um…” Louis begins, itching at his scalp and biting down at his lip.“We don’t have to say anything.I just want you to sleep with me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s not even opening his mouth, just instantly complying with a nod, Louis stepping back and allowing him to enter.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So they find themselves all the way back in Louis’ bedroom, in such a familiar setting that was supposed to be a sanctuary.Where they’ve always been nothing but happy, and endlessly in love, and ridiculously euphoric.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They’re under the blankets, the room quiet, but almost thundering with their thoughts while Harry has Louis warmly held against himself from behind.Louis’ not able to close his eyes as he caresses his pillow.Stupid eyes.He was <em>literally</em> just about to sleep like fifteen minutes ago.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it’s enough to just have Harry here.His loving, encompassing presence has Louis the most at ease that he’s felt since the “incident”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And they’re silent.Just like Louis asked for.All he has to do now is close his eyes and fall asleep to Harry’s fingertips caressing his waist—</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry, but I have to speak.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Of course it’s Harry, his voice hardly above a whisper as Louis’ pulling his eyes back open.Louis doesn’t say anything, just stays perfectly still, thinking Harry might assume that he’s asleep and leave him alone.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I…I didn’t just <em>do</em> it, okay.Like just to do it,” Harry begins, Louis closing his eyes to it, more as a method of wincing than anything else.“I was…”. He has a bit of difficulty saying it as he shifts a bit, Louis waiting and listening patiently.“This is gonna sound so fucking stupid and immature, but I felt rejected.And…I was upset that I liked you, and I had put myself out there, and felt like I got shot down in Niall’s bedroom that night.And it especially stung because I don’t ever even just <em>like </em>people like that, so I took it to heart.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And so I’d just kinda invited the boy into my bedroom with open arms—not really thinking enough to consider that you guys are friends—I mean, of course you are, you’re both freaking <em>captains of the team</em>, so I’m an idiot, but,” Harry begins, swallowing slightly and Louis trying not to get emotional again at the pained sound of the boy’s words.“I didn’t try to hurt <em>you</em>.It always used to be a coping mechanism of mine, becoming careless when I don’t get my way, and just sort of throwing myself at anything that gives me instant gratification, especially when I’m feeling shitty.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis chokes something down, Harry going silent enough for Louis to realize he’s done, although Louis’ not sure if he’s ready to respond yet.Or even make it known that he’s awake. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But eventually he does, just because the silence is the loudest it’s ever been.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So this is how you handle things, huh,” Louis says quietly, voice monotone and bored.“Like, is this fight gonna make you go and fuck Niall.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?<em>No</em>,” Harry’s responding a bit defensively.“And—honestly, you’re a pretty different guy right now from the one who’d claimed he was <em>chill</em> and not <em>judgy </em>about me being all loose, and into pretty boys, and everything.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, when you’re a single man who I’m not in freaking love with,” Louis replies, trying to keep the agitation out of his voice and failing just a bit as his eyes start stinging again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Lou.  I don't take hookups seriously at all.  They hold absolutely <em>no </em>importance to me and you <em>know</em> this—"</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"So what about the stuff we do then?" Louis' asking, blinking fiercely ahead at nothing.  "I guess that just means nothing, and it's like a <em>whatever</em> thing—"<br/>
</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">"Don't even start this, because you <em>know</em> it's different with you.  Different when feelings are involved."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis just stays quiet, letting his lips close and just knowing that this back and forth is going to amount to nothing, because it's not going to remove the uneasy twist from his stomach that he's been suffering through for over twenty-four hours now.  Plus, <em>Louis </em>thinks "hooking up" <em>is </em>a big deal.  But that aspect of this whole thing is something they're clearly never going to agree on.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Louis</em>.I’m <em>not</em> going to fuck Niall, I’m not going to fuck <em>anyone</em>—I <em>haven’t </em>fucked anyone during this relationship, and like I said, that <em>used</em> to be a coping mechanism of mine,” the boy explains, holding Louis more snug as he fits their bodies together some more, Louis now feeling the tickle of his words on his neck.“I’ve grown with you, you know.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis just closes his eyes and tries to keep the emotions and tears behind, because he <em>really</em> doesn’t want to talk about this now, and Harry isn’t helping with that.Saying that he’s grown isn’t really helpful at all for the fact that Louis has recently realized that he, himself, has done the <em>opposite </em>of growing throughout this relationship.He’s actually been starting to become quite the unreliable, head-in-the-clouds type.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sorry.Both for what happened and for talking about it,” is what Harry’s saying on a release of breath, seemingly sensing the way Louis’ going a bit rigid with wanting to cease talking about the situation.“I’ll be quiet now.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ simply keeping his eyes closed, letting his hands tenderly splay against the forearms the boy has around him, and trying not to think anymore so that he can get some actual sleep.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And somehow, by way of a miracle, he falls into a slumber.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When he wakes up, he couldn’t be more blissful to have the boy still by his side, no longer in perfect spooning position, but still wrapped around each other as the light floods in through the blinds, and Louis has arms around his shoulders and neck, along with a leg hooked around his right.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He takes a moment to just lay his tired, hardly open eyes over the boy, Harry still sleeping like an angel, his hair mussed and chaotic around him as it floods a lot of Louis’ space and splays upon the pillow.His gentle, nearly glowing skin contrasts with the black sheets that’s still on Louis’ bed, which only reminds Louis of the party he’d thrown him, although it’s bittersweet, how long ago that feels.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry stirs awake not much longer after that, Louis prepared for that thing he always does, where he rubs his knuckles against his nose once he’s just a few seconds from opening his eyes.Louis doesn’t know how he’ll ever think there’s a better sight in the world than watching him roll his head around in order to fight the way his body wants to awaken to the world.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once his heavy lids are hardly coming apart, Louis doesn’t pull his eyes away from him, which only makes Harry’s dimples show as he grins.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Good morning,” Louis whispers to him, running his knuckles down the boy’s cheek.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry gives him the same words right back, and in this moment, everything feels the same.Like they’d never fought, like Harry’s actions had never hurt him, like there’s no reason for them not to go back to exactly how they were.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then Louis’ phone is buzzing on his nightstand, and he’s leaving Harry to flop back down to the bed with a yawn once he’s turning to reach for it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b>Zayn: </b> <em>sorry, bro.he didn’t tell me u were his boyfriend. u should dump him, and then i can take us to go get some tofu</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Just like that, the early morning balloon of cloudiness is popped, and Louis’ brought back to reality as he sets his phone aside. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis already knows, without even telling himself, that Zayn isn’t the problem.Zayn and his incredibly calming and understanding demeanor can never be the problem of <em>anything</em>.It’s just the <em>notion</em> that Harry would do something like that, so carelessly with someone so close to the guy he supposedly likes, that rubs Louis the wrong way, has him unsure of what exactly <em>is</em> off limits, and wondering if the boy is ever going to surprise him again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Getting together to study with some folks from my science class,” Louis claims, voice just a bit croaked as he rubs a sleepy hand against his face, settling back upright against the headboard.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, can…” Harry begins, Louis raising an eyebrow at him, sort of already hearing how the question ends, and then watching the way the boy trails off and changes what he was about to say.“…or if you want me to go now.I like, can.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis can’t meet gaze with him as he speaks.“I mean, I’m about to get ready to head out, so.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s nodding without words for a second, sitting up next to the boy and keeping big eyes on him in order to discern what Louis’ meaning.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“…okay,” the boy eventually says, his fingers gripping the sheets.“I’ll leave now, then.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis offers his arms out for a simple departing hug, Harry moving in and wrapping his arms around him.Even in the midst of their friction, the hug is just as warm and latching, Louis using willpower not to forcefully keep the boy against him once they're starting to unravel.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I know you’ve been putting off your research paper, so go and do that,” Louis tells him, forcing out a laugh once he’s out of bed and patting the boy on the back, preparing to lead him to the front door. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Some more useless, empty words are said, including the ever so excruciating “see you Monday at practice”, and then he’s letting the boy out, without a kiss to the mouth, or to the cheek, or anything.He has to make this hurt as little as possible.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* </p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis fully expects Harry to go and fuck someone.Like, how could he not, actually.It’s who the boy <em>is</em>, who he’s always been, and it was probably hard enough during their two second relationship, trying to act like he didn’t want sex. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s pretty much a given, since Louis is currently dangling him in this “are we, aren’t we” predicament that’s been happening for a few days, so Louis doesn’t really know why he doesn’t just put the nail in the coffin already.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s the fear of completely losing him, is what it is.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And just the thought of it, the <em>certainty</em> of it, is pretty brutal for Louis, but he just sucks it up as he’s headed for practice, having already just done the daily meditation back at his apartment, and currently opening the fence with a heavy hand. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s just on time for practice, and he doesn’t know why it instantly irks him, seeing his teammates all leisure and casual and shoving each other as though practice shouldn’t have started thirty seconds ago.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Did I walk into a playground, or soccer practice?” Louis’ asking, as always turning heads not with the volume of his voice, but with the abruptness of his hostile words.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boys are quieting just a bit as they’re dispersing towards the field, although Liam’s the one who lingers near Louis as the boy is putting down his sports bag.“We were just kicking back a bit…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well, according to the losses we’ve already had, we can’t really afford to <em>kick back, </em>so,” Louis answers, using air quotesas he shrugs the boy off, before raising his eyebrows at him.“Mind if I run practice?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although Liam does look a bit unsure about putting power into Louis’ hands right now, he’s eventually scratching behind his ear and halfheartedly nodding, Louis not really caring about the reluctance of it, as much as he’s caring about making sure they have a fucking productive practice today and instead of standing around uselessly.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Awesome, because I’m feeling like we need to bring back Coach’s extra laps,” Louis’ announcing, raising his voice to be heard as he’s stepping towards his boys, stretching his arms out and ignoring their groans.“We can’t afford to lose anymore matches this season, so let’s break a sweat today, boys.” </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s definitely not met with the kindest of eyes right now, but he honestly doesn’t care, because Louis has been slacking, and as a result their team hasn’t been at their full potential, and it needs to stop now.It’s the only thing that matters.It’s the only thing that needs to matter to Louis right now.So no one will come to him about <em>anything</em> else.No one needs to talk to him about a fucking thing that isn’t soccer.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He only barely acknowledges Harry where the boy’s at the bench with a nod, the boy’s eyes brightened in reaction to it as though he hadn’t been expecting Louis to address his existence.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then Louis’ back at his regular spot next to Zayn during the stretches, just to solidify that there is nothing <em>wrong </em>between them, despite how much the other boys crave drama.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In fact, after the stretches are over, Zayn uses the short period of socialization and background voices of the other teammates to place a hand on Louis’ shoulder, Louis not knowing why he feels like it instantly brings about the first release of tension he’s had in an hour.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And then the tension builds right back up with the words that leave Zayn’s mouth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Look, he’d talked to me before practice and basically <em>begged </em>me to say anything to convince you to stop being upset,” he’s saying lowly, ducking his head at Louis.Before Louis can sink too much into himself with exhaustion and fingers that want to curl up on themselves, Zayn continues, only a microscopic smirk to his lips.“But I don’t care about that. You broke up with him yet?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis can’t help the way just a trace of almost laughter reaches his lips in response to the boy keeping himself unbiased and simple, although he’s shaking his head solemnly, grateful for this break where finally, no one’s keeping careful eyes on him like he’s a wounded puppy. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No.We actually…weren’t even together, like.At that time, just,” Louis begins, closing his eyes briefly and taking a deep breath.“I just wanna focus on soccer practice, alright?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright,” Zayn’s agreeing with a warm grin, hand sliding down and off Louis’ arm, and the boy shooting finger guns at him as he backs away.“Cone dribbling next?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The curvature of Louis’ lips actually grows genuine, the boy nodding once as he watches a retreating Zayn.“Yes. Cone dribbling next.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis keeps himself preoccupied with the different training exercises they’re going over during practice, the laps they're running until their legs don't want to function anymore, and the harsh pointers he's giving to specific players as to what they could do to improve, so that he can’t even spare a glance at or think about Harry during this time.It’s even noticed by Coach Branden once he’s arriving an hour in, the man joyfully proclaiming to Louis that he’s "back”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Which is fitting, because Louis had really been starting to fade and he hadn’t even noticed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Regardless, however, once they’re helping themselves to a break, Louis’ walking himself over to Harry by the cooler, both to hydrate himself, and also because he knows he has to acknowledge the boy at least once.Harry’s actually been rather quiet today, Louis not having heard one uninvited, yet witty remark from him all practice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What’s up with these fruity drinks?” Byron’s asking Harry, digging through the cooler and pulling a regular water out eventually.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I brought them for Louis,” Harry’s replying, a small grin in Louis’ direction.“He really loves them.And I love him.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis ignores the very faint <em>oohs</em> that are sounding nearby as he passes the opposite direction of Byron in order to reach into the cooler, in fact, finding the fruity energy drinks he used to love that Savannah (their old team assistant) would always bring, Louis only having mentioned them to the boy once.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thanks,” Louis’ saying a bit timidly as he tosses it between his hands, Harry blinking up at him expectantly and Louis unsure of how to go about anything.It’s almost like they’ve circled right back around to the beginning stage of their interactions.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Look, I’m sorry I’m doing this to you,” Louis says quietly, adjusting the frame of his glasses, and choosing to step over and finally sit by the boy.He keeps his gaze down toward his knees however, not wanting to be affected by the overwhelming power of his eyes meeting Harry’s.“And you shouldn't have to feel like you need to get Zayn to talk to me or anything.I’m just…hurt.It’s how I feel whether it makes sense or not.And I just know I’d be doing a disservice to myself if I didn’t at least take <em>some </em>sort of time to reflect.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How much time do you need?” Harry asks, voice just as quiet whilst their shoulders touch.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And ugh.Louis’ heart hurts.Because Harry’s voice hurts. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I…I dunno…I just—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis, what do you need to <em>know</em>?” Harry’s asking, gesturing with his hands just a bit exasperatedly, Louis closing his eyes and trying not to wince at the increasing twinge of his heart.“What do you want me to do?Say?I just want to <em>fix</em> it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I don’t know, is the thing,” Louis’ answering with a thick throat, brushing his hand down the back of his neck.“Because I can’t change you.And I’m kind of realizing that.I would never want to change you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s shared silence between them, Louis wondering why he’s already let his mind drift away from practice, and contemplating how to get it back on track in order to get through the rest of this hour and a half.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Just…” Louis begins, not being able to stop his word vomit now.“How was he.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The only thing Harry’s doing is barely inhaling before Louis’ opening his mouth again, putting his hand up in the air and shaking his head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait—no, don’t answer that.<em>See?</em>Ugh, it’s—“ Louis begins, running a hand through his hair and gripping the strands.“It’s giving me this sense of insecurity, and—and thoughts of <em>am I moving too slow for you</em>, because what if you and him <em>full on</em>—but then I know I’d hate to hear the details, and that’d be pushy of me, so I—“ Louis cuts himself off, just scoffing at himself and moving to stand up, despite the way he feels the intensity of Harry’s eyes on his profile.“You know what?I’ll stop.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Practice calls me,” Louis says through a forced grin, bottle in his hand that he hasn’t even opened as he saunters over to the rest of the dispersed boys, ready to enthuse them about the techniques they still have to go over before practice ends (<em>after</em> pretending he didn’t see them quickly avert their eyes from having watched his and Harry’s conversation).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s when Louis’ finally calling it a day for everyone (<em>after</em> going fifteen minutes overtime) that he’s left with his own problems to deal with once again.  It's coming completely as second nature to him when he’s making his way over and helping Harry to pack everything back into his bags.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it’s only when they’re finished with getting Harry’s belongings together, and Louis’ doing his usual thing of standing in front of the boy with twiddling fingers and uncertainty in his bones, that Harry’s simply opening his arms to him.  It's like his chest is a magnet, which is why so effortlessly, Louis finds himself stepping forth and falling right in with arms around his waist.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis doesn’t even know why he wants to cry right now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Well, actually he does.He wants to cry right now, because he never wants to let go.He wants to cry right now, because Harry’s scoffing at the boys who are probably making juvenile faces and gestures at him (which Louis can't see due to being buried in his chest), and he’s responding to them with “this is <em>true love</em>, which you morons can never understand”, endearingly insufferable as always.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It hurts because Louis knows he needs to break up with him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But as he's holding him right now, feeling significantly more serene than he’s felt since his heart had hit the ground and shattered just last week, he doesn't want to.He just wants it to feel like <em>this</em> between them all the time.Without losing himself in the process, or forgetting everything around him, or dealing with crippling, insecure uncertainty.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ looking up at him just because, Harry meeting him right there, getting his forehead pressed to the boy’s with just a bit of question there as to what’s going through Louis’ head.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Maybe Louis doesn’t have to.Maybe this can work.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis doesn’t grant him any words, just eventually moves to help the boy carry his things, already simply hating that they’re about to get in separate cars since they’ve been mostly “separate” for some days in a row now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it’s in the midst of the both of them moving in the direction of Harry’s car in the parking lot that Richardson is calling the boy’s name, Louis just slowing his steps, and not even having to turn around along with Harry to see what the boy’s calling him about.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">In his peripheral he can see Harry signaling to the boy that “it’s” in his car, and Louis doesn’t <em>completely</em> know why, but this is what makes the decision for him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ feet are coming to a slow stop as he’s simply putting the bags he’s holding down upon the concrete by his feet, eyes tired and directly ahead of him as Harry’s turning towards him with blinking eyes, probably wondering why they’ve paused.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Harry, I think we should break up,” Louis says in one breath, granting Harry the decency of looking him in the eyes as he folds his arms in front of himself.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The look upon Harry’s face is genuinely thrown, almost disbelieving as though Louis may be telling a joke as his hand that’d been holding his car keys in the air is frozen, the cooler behind him rolling to a stop. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We’re clearly losing sides of ourselves to each other, and more accustomed to different ways, just…” Louis continues, voice weak as he toys with the strands at the back of his head and only looks down briefly before forcing his eyes back up.Inevitably, his eyes are watery and full of emotion, even against his will.“Yeah, probably best to end it.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s nodding, clearly setting his jaw tight as he works his keys around his fingers and can’t seem to part his lips for a moment.He speaks eventually though, barely cutting the excruciating silence.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“So…” Harry begins, breathy more than anything.“This is just…just because I—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, it’s more about how <em>I </em>can’t fucking handle it,” Louis tells him, <em>really</em> trying not to full on sob in the middle of the parking lot outside of practice right now.<em>God</em>, he should’ve chosen a better place to do this.He guesses he really <em>is </em>a drama queen.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That’s what a relationship is, though,” Harry says, frustrated as his brows furrow.“Trying to adjust to things you normally wouldn't adjust to.  You know like me, being the loud mouth that I am, who wanted to fucking <em>scream </em>from the top of a mountain that we were together, but <em>you </em>not being ready for that, and <em>still </em>I—I…”. He trails off a bit as it seems to really hit him, Harry shaking his head and sniffling once, looking around as though there may be a joke being played on him, and Louis definitely feeling like the boy's just know releasing some feelings he'd been harboring, the words feeling like a gust of ice cold wind slapping him in the face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“…fuck, you’re really breaking up with me?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis physically can’t bear to say it again, can barely even bear to face the pain in Harry's green, shining eyes right now, so all he does is nod, continuing to be folded in on himself.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s another instance of no words, Harry just genuinely trying to see if Louis will backtrack, or say anything else, or reveal he isn’t serious—just anything, at this point it looks like, as the boy stares at him with a desperate look of hopelessness. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ only forcing out words through the willpower of his quivering lips.“You said it yourself.You were never really a relationship guy.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Something seems to switch within the boy, something that’d made him go from quietly incredulous to bitterly accepting, his teeth gnawing down on the inside of cheek for a moment as it appears he tries to keep whatever fire has just been lit inside him hidden.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fine,” Harry’s finally saying, gathering everything up in his arms that Louis had set down, getting the items slung over himself and even huffing.“Whatever.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Harry…” Louis manages with a sigh.“Please don’t be mad.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know, I can only be <em>patient </em>and <em>pretty </em>and <em>polite </em>for so long,” Harry’s saying sourly, already starting away, and only spinning to hurl his words at Louis on his retreat, sort of making a spectacle out of this breakup.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And yeah, of <em>course </em>Louis knows that. Of <em>course </em>he knows Harry’s like a ticking time bomb of moving onto the next shiny thing that interests him.That’s why Louis’ doing this.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But the knowledge that Harry’s probably already been pushed past his “smile and wait” point doesn’t stab Louis any less as he watches his retreat with a withering heart.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>put the comments in the bag and the fic continues (two more chapters left btw ☆)</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This whole thing is a shit show.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This is honestly something Louis couldn’t have imagined in his wildest scenarios, especially if anyone had asked him to predict this about himself a mere five months ago.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But this is real.This is happening. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis has a match tomorrow, and he’s just had sex with Harry in the boy’s hotel room.He’s currently wondering where to go from here.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But of course, he has to go back in the story a bit, just to explain his predicament.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why are you following me in here?” Harry had asked, about an hour ago when Louis had stalked right past the door and into his hotel room, not being able to withstand it anymore.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because I’m not about to do this with you, Harry,” Louis told him, setting a hand down on the coffee table, stood right next to where Harry had been taking the time to nonchalantly lift and inspect the hotel case of boxed water.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Do what?” Harry asked, playing dumb as he narrowed his eyes at the label on the back.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis reached out and was quite sharp in his movements when he took the water and set it down on the table, before turning the boy around by his shoulder, forcing their eyes to meet and gesturing between the both of them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>This</em>,” Louis began, his quiet voice cutting.“Regardless of anything, this is my—<em>our</em> team, and I’m not about to have every interaction between us turn into some petty argument.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Coach had put Harry in charge of ordering pizza for all of them, since they’d just arrived at the hotel for the away match they have tomorrow and deserved at least one night of comfort food and rest.So they’d all gathered in Liam’s room where they’d sort of been hanging out already as a team and a <em>family, </em>and worked on communicating to Harry what he should order.Louis had requested there be at <em>least</em> one cheese pizza—and Harry knows this, knows that’s the only kind Louis tolerates, yet he’d gone and turned it into a whole thing about how it’ll end up being an entire pizza just for <em>him</em>, and he’d went as far as to take a vote of hands on who else was going to eat the pizza, all while declaring to Louis that the world doesn’t revolve around him. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And that’s not even counting the way the boy had refused to let Louis help him carry around any of his things today, or the way the boy had put his cushion headphones on over his ears the whole entire ride on the bus.  The other boys had intentionally left them a bus seat to themselves—Harry of course having sighed when he saw that the only open spot left was next to Louis upon entering the bus last, and he didn't even pay Louis any mind when Louis would physically <em>try </em>to talk to him at different points during the duration of the ride.It’s all just petty stuff that Louis doesn’t think should be necessary at all.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So after the whole pizza debacle, the boy having ordered the meat lover’s pizzas right through Louis’ verbal reminders for him to order the cheese, Harry had declared it should be here in thirty minutes, and left out of Liam’s room where they had all been leisurely gathered. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Relationship drama is the <em>last</em> thing anyone wants to hear, so Louis had walked right out with him—and it’s obvious how that went.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No one’s turning anything into a petty argument,” Harry replied, setting his palm on the table as well and properly facing Louis.“What, just because I’m trying to be a good team assistant and order pizza fairly for everybody, that means I’m being petty?Or is Louis just upset because he doesn’t get any special treatment since he’s not my boyfriend anymore?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ lips parted on their own accord, because he’s never really had to have so many confrontational predicaments before Harry.  He almost doesn't even know how to handle situations like this.<em>People </em>like this.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How can you be such a <em>child?”</em> Louis fired with as his fingers curled with contained frustration, only slightly disregarding how they may be able to be heard from across the hall.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>I’m </em>the child and you’re arguing about <em>pizza!” </em>Harry retorted with spread arms, taking some steps back as though he was trying to show an invisible audience how ridiculous it all was.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s not the <em>pizza</em>, it’s the <em>principle</em> of you going out of your way to—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Ahhh, </em>I don’t <em>care</em>,” Harry was saying forcefully, his back to Louis now as he fully had his ears covered. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis still tried to get his words out however, because he knew Harry could hear <em>something </em>in those ears of his, even as he continued to say “just <em>stop</em>” repeatedly, working to drown Louis out even as Louis was expressing how immature the boy was being and how he will not let this behavior slide by for even one more night.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s thoroughly fed up with it when the boy doesn’t let him speak, Louis having walked up and rounded the boy and just ripped his hands away from his ears by his wrists with a stern “<em>Harry</em>”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Instantly, the boy was quieted once Louis had a grip on his wrists, holding them down in between themselves.  It appears as though Harry hadn’t expected this reaction in some aspects, and only after a few seconds of manic eye contact from Louis, and blank, wider opened eyes from Harry, was the boy offering a much more quiet, lingering “what”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And before Louis knew what he was doing, he was surging forward, using the grip on Harry’s wrists to pull him down and in, and kissing him.Pretty hard.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Harry had met his energy immediately, the boy having ripped one of his wrists away in order to get it behind Louis’ neck as Louis tilted his head into him and let himself be forced further in between Harry’s lips.Louis quickly took the initiative of getting one hand on the boy’s waist and the other gripping his sweatshirt, backing the boy into the nearby stand-up closet in just a few feet and relishing the pained sound Harry had pressed into his lips on impact, although their lips barely detached for even half a second.Louis was tasting him where their tongues met in the middle, where their tongues met while their lips were wide open and engulfed in each other, Louis making a mess of Harry’s hair by now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was simply the fact that he could already feel Harry hard against him, right where their crotches were flush together with no air to breathe, Louis licking into Harry’s mouth and stuttering in his breaths just a bit, aching for it, just wanting it so bad, because by now he's <em>wanted it</em> for so long.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it was even worse when Harry’s hands were sliding behind him and into his pants, right upon his bare ass and nearly bringing him to his toes as he brought him in for one downward grind, Harry’s lips now sucking wetly at the crook of his neck.Louis was even feeling the shivers from his occasional teeth, just barely biting on.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When Louis was gripping the material of the boy’s shirt at the chest and backing up the few feet to the bed, their feet almost tripping over each other with how fast he was going, it was another one of those instances where someone new had taken over him.Someone new who realized he’d gotten away without ever intimately experiencing Harry's body in this way, and refused to accept that. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So that was why Harry’s shirt was being ripped off and over the boy’s head from his bottom hem by Louis’ hands, the boy just allowing it, and leaving his hair disarrayed and chaotic because of it, right before diving back into the boy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You know I’ve,” Louis breathed, in between Harry kissing him and shuffling onto the bed knees first.“Never done the, uh—“He was <em>really</em> not trying to be a stammering mess in the middle of this heated moment, especially when Harry was biting his bottom lip and hiking one of his thighs up in order to get their legs nicely slotted.“…haven’t thought about who I am in terms of—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s okay, you can fuck me if you want,” Harry was breathing, the boy giving him a jolting enough kiss for them both to fall over and Louis to be on his back, already growing in his pants just at the thought of it, especially when the boy started rutting his hips downward and right against him purposefully, their lips deep and slow in time with their hips.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I do,” Louis panted, although he was a bit worried of how close he may have already been.He used this moment to budge the boy off of him in order to go over and quickly close the door to this hotel room, right at the same time it appeared Harry was scavenging his bags and suitcase for sex things, which—of course he’d brought that—<em>don’t think about it.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Louis actually succeeded in not thinking about it, just getting lost in the lusty haze of it all as the boy had his legs spread open underneath Louis, Louis too shocked into silence at the shirtless, eager boy under him to actually do anything besides grip his thighs as Harry was eventually inserting fingers into himself.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry didn’t care for Louis’ lack of knowledge on what to do besides drool, because soon he was taking one of Louis’ hands and just bringing it to his lips in order to suck on two of his fingers as he seemed to get lost in opening himself up, Louis just fucking obsessed with watching it, <em>obsessed</em> with how, somehow, he hadn’t even cracked the iceberg of Horny Harry despite thinking they’d already done a good amount of stuff.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because the boy right then was the definition of being in <em>heat</em>.His eyes were legitimately <em>darker.  </em>It also seemed like he wasn't even conscious of how viciously he was sinking his teeth into Louis' fingers at times, Louis nearly wincing with the pain of it, but somehow regarding it as a pleasurable pain.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Pretty soon, however, Harry was urging Louis’ free hand in between him so <em>Louis</em> could insert his fingers, and at one point, both of them were <em>in there</em>.They were <em>both in there</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And for a moment, it almost seemed like Harry was going to come just like that, riding the both of their fingers inside of him, his head hitting the headboard and the bed lightly swaying with every movement of it, especially when at one point the boy was wrapping an arm around the back of Louis’ neck and bringing him in to nearly suffocate against Harry’s shoulder, Harry relentlessly breathing his name. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it was <em>Louis</em> who actually knew something about the ancient art of teasing, putting a halt to the boy’s eager gyrating and removing his fingers in order to pin the boy down at both hips, with both hands, Harry instantly holding back a choked whine as his face twisted in the sheets.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You want to come from this, or from me fucking you?” Louis asked him lowly, their noses barely touching as the boy had his watery eyes closed and swallowed once.“Because you’re only getting one.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck me, <em>please</em> fuck me,” Harry was panting with no hesitation, knees in the air as he spread his legs more shamelessly for the boy, hands cementing to the bottom of Louis’ waist.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So Louis granted him his wish.And despite the fact that Louis has never even done this in his life, even during his phase of compulsory heterosexuality, eventually the condom was efficiently put on (with the sole help of Harry), and then he was inside the boy, and then he was fucking the stars out of him. He didn’t even have to start out slow, or build up to anything, because the boy was just moving right into it, palming Louis’ lower waist and ass to get them into a wild rhythm, Louis only having been half-thoughtful of how embarrassed he’d most likely be in the next thirty seconds when he was most likely going to reach climax.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh my <em>god, yeah,” </em>Harry was moaning, one of Louis’ hands against the headboard, the other one hiking the boy’s knee up as he tried to get a good angle, even though it honestly seemed like every angle was working for the boy.Every angle was working for Louis too.“Fucking <em>pound me</em>,” Harry was encouraging, barely audible through his choked words as Louis was trying to go even harder than he already had been, tears budding in his eyes and Harry unbelievably tight and warm around him, like Louis was made to be right in there, all the time.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry was sitting himself up to clumsily attach his lips to Louis’, their chests colliding as Louis fucked him the best he could while having his tongue tangled with the boy’s, and the slow build of it was felt right at his core as he picked up speed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Deeper</em><em>,” </em>Harry was just barely whispering through his heavy breaths, fully lifted on his palms in order to thrust himself right into Louis, their foreheads close and sweaty as Louis held the boy close by the back of his neck and focused on his shining wet, puffed lips from all the biting.“<em>Fuck</em>.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis didn’t even know why this was taking him there.The boy was practically fucking <em>him</em> just as much as Louis was fucking him back, them simply meeting in the middle and locking their lips again as they shuddered into each other’s mouths with the orgasm they were both just about reaching.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Jesus</em>,” Louis was panting, the word cut off as he was coming, cemented to the boy’s bare shoulder by Harry’s hand caressing his head.Harry was riding it out as they were both shaking, Louis not even having known that he could orgasm for <em>this</em> long.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis of course had let the three words slip out, quiet and mere breaths into Harry’s shoulder as he hugged him across his back and remained heated inside of him, because who <em>wouldn’t? </em>It was practically an extreme sport not to say those three words while the boy was making him feel <em>that</em> good.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I love you too,” Harry was responding breathily, hugging him up just as cozily and seeming to come down just a bit more from it, although there was still a twitch of his body here and there.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And so this brings Louis back to the present. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Where he’s fucked the energy out of Harry as the boy has floated back down to the bed on his back, all of his business just barely out of his dark grey sweatpants, Louis in between his opened legs and raised knees.Harry doesn’t seem to care much about anything in his post-coital state, his curly hair rampant and wild around him and his eyes blissfully closed as his fingers splay his lips, but where Louis’ kneeled, he’s quickly drifting right back into hyperaware territory.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think we might’ve just become toxic,” Louis says, voice soft as he’s brushing a hand through his own sweaty hair and just looking down at the boy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy’s reaction is that of someone who’s trying not to be woken up from sleep, his eyes closed and his brows barely furrowing as he offers a “huh?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I just…” Louis begins, more to himself as he gathers his thoughts and does back up his pants.“I just need to…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Wait,” Harry begins, eyes blinking open although still nearly closed as he’s getting up to his elbows, Louis still between his legs as one of the boy’s dimples show.“You didn’t really mean it when you said you were only gonna fuck me once, right?”His smirk spreads into something more cheeky as he tilts his head, clearly not deciphering the frantic thoughts flashing all across Louis’ unsmiling face.“Because I’ve got quite a few more rounds in me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, Harry,” Louis replies, his voice emphatic enough for Harry to actually read the room for a second.“Can’t you see?How this is a mess?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s quieting bit by bit as his smirk shrinks, Louis figuring he should probably get off from in front of him and inside his thighs, but staying in place anyway. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But…” Harry begins, his voice increasingly quiet, almost frail.“You just said you loved me…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And I <em>do</em>, but—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“But <em>what</em>?” Harry’s asking, his eyes slightly glossed.“I love you, you love me—Barney said it best it should be <em>that</em> simple—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Stop</em>,” Louis tells him, bold and blunt, his eyes holding an edge in order to convey to the boy that he’s being serious, and that he’d like it if the boy was serious <em>too</em>, for once.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It slowly dawns on Harry’s face, whatever smirk he’d been about to make vanished as they hold each other’s eyes, and for the first time, it feels like, he’s completely processing their changed dynamic, Louis’ sincerity about wanting to end things, and it’s showing right through his shiny eyes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Lou, please don’t,” the boy’s breathing, Louis closing his eyes to it, already not being able to bear it and not wanting to <em>go </em>through this.Harry keeps going anyway as his soft voice is barely even heard through his pleading words.“Don't break up with me.What am I supposed to—I can’t <em>be</em> without—“ </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ right in the middle of touching his fist to his own wincing face when the loud knock at the boy’s hotel room door jolts the <em>both </em>of them into remembering where they are, and that other people are aware of their existences right now, bringing Louis to <em>finally</em> shuffle off of the boy by his knees and off the side of the bed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ unsure of what to do for a moment, strongly contemplating hiding, but then remembering that’s the kind of ridiculousness that turned this whole thing into a shit show in the first place.It’s even useless anyway, when Harry is shuffling his way up to the door without a shirt on, his hair a tornado and his sweatpants low on his hips, practically one centimeter from exposing all his business.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis in here?” is the voice that arises once the boy’s got the door open—<em>right </em>at that thirty percent length that makes it so Louis isn’t seen regardless.Figures.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Why?” is how Harry’s answering, clearly trying to make his weak voice stronger than it is, as Louis’ rolling his eyes and mouthing at the back of the boy’s head <em>why are you like this</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“…um,” Chase starts hesitantly, Louis leaning the side of his head on the wall right behind the boy.“Because he’s one of our captains?And Coach is trying to speak with them right now?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well tell <em>Coach</em>, that—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Uh—I’ll take it from here,” Louis’ groaning, taking a hand to Harry’s shoulder and pushing his way past, ignoring the parted lips Harry’s giving him.“Me and the boy were just having a chat—tell them I’ll be right with them.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Chase is offering nothing other than a reluctant nod, before he’s dallying back down the hallway, and Louis is left to turn back toward Harry from right outside of the boy’s hotel room.He quickly opens his mouth before the boy can say anything, just really not wanting to damage this situation any further.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’ll come back after, okay?” Louis tells him, Harry having an arm extended and hand on the doorframe as he leans on it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The boy takes a moment or two to finally nod, having been a bit sidetracked by such promising words from Louis, probably not knowing if it means they’re going to fuck, or they’re going to talk, or they’re going to get back together.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And honestly, Louis doesn’t know either.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Which is why he leaves the boy with a grin, meets up for a gathering with Coach and his fellow captains, and doesn’t go back to be with Harry afterward.Because he’d half kind of been saying that just as a sedative, a means to end this thing that he has no idea how to end.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So it makes sense when, in the morning, right before their early, crack of dawn practice, Louis’ met with a dilemma that he can’t run away from.And it actually comes in the form of the boys on his team doing their occasional thing of thinking just because they’re away and at a hotel that it’s perfect time for pranking, </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The funny thing is though, that Louis doesn’t even know it’s a prank at first, just having left the breakfast buffet and ventured back to his and Niall’s room in order to help himself to a refreshing shower before sweating his body all up again at practice.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Only to find that all of his bathroom items—both the multitude of stuff he routinely brings with him <em>and</em> the hotel stuff that’s provided, the soaps, the body washes, the conditioners, the shampoos, the face scrubs, the hand soaps, towels, <em>everything</em> is completely gone from his bathroom and shower in the place where they’d once been.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Since it’s something that Niall’s pleasantly surprised and giggly at once Louis’ storming out of the bathroom and asking about it, Louis’ next target is the oh-so-obvious one (he’d thought).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It was convenient that the boy was already out of his room a bit further down the hall, conversing with about two of the soccer boys who were already showered and dressed around him.Harry was dressed too in a particularly huge bomber jacket, along with the usual drooping dark sweatpants and bag on his shoulder.Louis didn’t waste a moment before stalking over to him, still in his fuzzy white slippers and just wanting a fucking <em>shower</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He merely stands in front of him with crossed arms, Niall hysterical (and probably high) by his side as he’d disrupted whatever conversation Harry had been having and it slowly fades to silence.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Must we do this everyday?” Louis’ asking, his voice and eyes endlessly bored. “Give me back my items, Harry.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“What <em>items</em>?” Harry’s asking.  The way the boy's slow laughter builds as he turns to Liam and James next to him only fuels Louis with <em>knowing </em>he’d taken it and simply thinks it’s funny.“I’ve literally just minded my business this entire morning.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Then I suppose my sugar scrubs, body gels, face masks, you <em>name </em>it,” Louis begins, counting off on his fingers.“Just magically acquired legs and walked right out?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s nodding and blinking matter-of-factly.“Yeah, that’d have to be it.Maybe we’ve finally discovered the secret to bringing inanimate objects to life.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“How long are you going to drag this?” Louis asks, fully aware he’s providing a show for some of the players who are lingering up and down the hall outside of their rooms and just quietly watching.Louis’ just way too fucking <em>exhausted </em>of this to let it keep going.“I get it, okay?You’re mad, you’re angry—I’ve probably hurt you, and <em>I’m hurt too</em>, okay, Harry?I’m <em>fucking </em>hurt too, but none of this <em>shit</em> is going to make <em>anything </em>better, and will actually only accomplish pissing me the<em> fuck off </em>right before the match, because I’m trying to focus on soccer and taking the team to a win instead of <em>this</em> fucking shit all the <em>time</em>!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s just about heaving once he’s done with his rant, hysterical, red rimmed eyes aimed at the boy, and the faint calling of Louis’ name heard somewhere to his far left, probably to calm him down—but <em>no</em>, Louis will not <em>fucking</em> calm down, this is immature and insufferable.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Then.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You want soap?” Harry’s asking dryly, pushing his back against his partially open hotel room door that he’d been leaned against.“<em>Fine.”</em>It’s pretty loud and demanding once he’s disappearing back into his room again, the door open behind him as Louis takes only a step or two to let himself into the room, although he can’t see the boy wherever he is, rummaging and making chaotic sounds in the bathroom.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s coming back out with swift steps, his features hardened and his eyes more out of it than Louis’ seen in a while as he’s shoving a medium sized bottle of hotel body wash into the boy’s chest, Louis taking it in his hands with a huff, before Harry’s turning back towards the bathroom for more.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ steps are following him, because he doesn’t know why, but he’s started to feel bad between one minute ago and now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Harry…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, just fucking <em>take</em> it!” Harry’s firing, his arms piled with complimentary boxes of soap, body gel, and shampoo as he's coming out of the bathroom again and flies right past Louis, seemingly headed towards Louis’ hotel room, bringing Louis to have no choice but to follow him in order to prevent this from escalating. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Take <em>all</em> of it!” is what Louis’ hearing right as he’s following the boy into his own hotel room, hearing the crash of it down upon the counter in the bathroom.</span>
</p><p class="p1"><span class="s1">Louis is already growing apologetic about whatever <em>cleaning staff </em>would have to answer to Harry’s tantrum, putting his hands up in a “calm down” fashion once he’s entering the bathroom with the boy, headed towards the spilled bathroom liquids and the mess in order to get everything tidy and off of the floor and in good order</span>.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I get it, Harry—</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, I’ll get you some shower shoes too—<em>and </em>my towels.”The words are coming just as Louis’ hearing him stomping out of the room, and honestly, Louis’ not sure if he’s near a panic attack, or if he’s simply just frantic while alternating between trying to clean this mess, and cover his face with frustrated palms, but he doesn’t even get time to figure it out, because soon the boy is back, and Louis’ arms are suddenly stuffed full of plush towels along with more bathroom stuff Louis can't even identify anymore as something's dripping a gooey substance onto his slippers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, I <em>get it!” </em>Louis explodes, hurling his arm full of towels right back at the boy, the avalanche in his arms finally falling to the ground and creating a heap of absolute clutter.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, you <em>don’t</em>, because <em>clearly</em> you’re just gonna keep fucking attacking me!” Harry’s retorting, throwing a towel right back at him as his face is reddening with it.“And acting like I’m such a fucking <em>immature idiot </em>for being hurt!”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it pretty much turns into a shouting, throwing match of various bathroom items, and towels, and shower shoes, because <em>Harry’s </em>the one who keeps throwing them, which is the <em>only</em> reason Louis’ throwing them back and clarifying for the <em>hundredth </em>time why the breakup even happened, almost to the point of tears because this is such a disaster that he never would’ve been prepared for in a million years, and Harry won’t stop yelling over him in order to even <em>listen</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis hadn’t been prepared for what came next, especially since some of the team members had been intervening to get the both of them to stop throwing things, forcing the towels, and soap dispensers, and deodorants out of their hands and calmly telling them to stop fighting.So it kind of blended into everything else when one of the trip chaperones had entered, not even paying mind to the fight, her attention immediately going to “<em>what</em> is this”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Kind of immediately, everything goes quiet, Louis pausing where he’d been trying to rub soap out his eyes, and Harry stopped where Liam had had a hold on both of his wrists, urging him to drop the shaving cream.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although Louis’ eyes sting a bit, he forces them in the direction of Mrs. Singit—he knows her voice all too well, since she’s the coach assistant to the cheerleaders who have also traveled with them for this away match and occupy the hotel floor, so it makes <em>sense </em>that she's heard the ruckus.  And <em>then </em>Louis moves his eyes in the direction she’s sternly looking in, which is right upon the carpet just a few feet shy of the bathroom—where there’s a clear bag of weed, out in the open, green, unmistakable, and whatnot.Most likely having fallen out of Harry’s jacket pocket in the midst of their bathroom war fiasco, since Louis knows that’s where he often keeps it (carelessly).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">If there was ever a time Louis doubted that his heart could absolutely beat right out of his chest, he <em>definitely </em>doesn’t think that now.The only heart that could be beating faster than his right now is Harry’s, Mrs. Singit’s incredulous, shocked eyes darting at everyone in the room, as though looking for who to release her fire upon. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s mine,” Louis’ saying, not even having to think about it long.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Louis—“</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry, I’ll do away with it,” Louis’ cutting right over Harry, stepping forth and meeting his doom, the instantaneous desire for Harry not to be expelled taking over him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, what you’ll <em>do</em> is come and have a talk with me and your coach.<em>Now</em>,” she’s saying without another word, eyes sharp above her low-set glasses and unsmiling mouth, not wasting anymore time before stalking away right out of the room, shouldering through the lingering teammates as though she doesn’t want to touch them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although stunned silence only lingers for a second or two, the boy is walking up to Louis, his fingers curled in the air as though he almost wants to choke him for being so stupid.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis, are you fucking <em>out</em>—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“If you go and say it was you, I won’t speak to you again,” Louis tells him easily, calmly, despite the flush of the boy’s incredulous, almost infuriated face.Louis really wishes pretty much the whole team weren’t around right now, because only <em>he </em>knows how much all of <em>this </em>means to Harry, knows this school is all he has, and just doesn’t think anyone else understands it on as deep a level.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis' the one who started this whole fight by aggressively accusing the boy and forcing him to react, especially when he's clearly already near his limit. This wouldn’t have happened if Louis hadn’t let his frustrations get the best of him, if he hadn’t begun to see the worst in Harry, just because <em>he</em> had been so blinded by the relationship and needed someone to blame it on.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So all he does is take a deep breath, reaching for the boy’s angry hands in the air and just caressing them with both of his, and even through the stirring in his chest and his panicked, loud thoughts, he gives him warm, reassuring eyes.“I have a cleaner record.I’ll fix this.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And with that, he’s leaving out, ignoring the boys he has to move past who tell him not to do it, and that he's being stupid, and that he's going to miss practice, and he just follows in Mrs. Singit's footsteps out of the room and down the hall in order to deal with it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It sort of becomes a blur of consequences, and brash, shouted words, and Louis feeling like he’s a high school kid who just got sent to the principal’s office.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis can’t even play tonight.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He actually doesn’t even know when the next time is that he can play, but he <em>definitely </em>can’t play today as he’s made to pack his things and leave pretty quickly, back towards the town from which they came, and not even granted an opportunity to see the boys beforehand, since they’d gone to practice as planned.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Amongst the slew of panicked, concerned texts flooding his phone as he’s boarding the bus in order to go back home—including the several thousand that claim it was just a prank—the one that sticks out is Harry’s.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b>Harry: </b> <em>come back and say it wasn't yours.they think i'm covering for you since it was in your room.</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><b>Harry:</b> <em>please, babe.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All Louis can do is have his chest rise and lower with his breaths as he’s sitting at the edge of one of the seat rows, something thick forming in the midst of his throat and his eyes holding a heaviness that won’t subside.  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because he can't.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  He can't let Harry take the heat for this.  </span>There’s just something in Louis that <em>had</em> to do this, knowing that Harry’s on his last strike.It’s who he is.Being really dumb sometimes for people he loves is who Louis <em>is.</em>And being careless enough for it to even happen is who Harry is.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>last chap :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s a walk of shame as Louis is pushing open one of the heavy, ancient double doors after having gotten out of his meeting with the actual dean of the school. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">His book bag is slung over his chest since it’d been something of a regular school day before this, and he’s mostly numb as he’s headed toward the grand, wide steps, already seeing some of his team members at the bottom as they’d been waiting for his fate.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s front and center though, arms crossed fiercely in front of him, eyes hard and watering, like he wants to cry, but also wants to bang the boy’s head against the pavement.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>So</em>?” Harry asks, his voice heavy with emotion and concern as he walks right up to Louis, Louis finally leaving the last step.The other boys are chiming in with questions behind him that get drowned out by the sight of Harry, more serious and devastated than Louis’ ever seen him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I, uh…” Louis begins, only half grinning to cope as he adjusts his glasses.“Got off kinda easy.Just suspended from matches for the time being.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The sudden uproar, almost solely from the boys behind Harry as Harry himself stays silent and unreadable, is coming at him in full force: “you’re a fucking <em>idiot”, </em>“what are we gonna do <em>now</em>”, “you’re our <em>best </em>midfielder”, “are you <em>serious</em>”, “Louis, what the <em>fuck</em>”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah…” Louis replies in response to all of it, shrugging one shoulder out of a lack of anything else to do. He turns his eyes toward Harry in front of him, although he’s very close to cowering under his gaze, since it’s almost a glower.“Thanks for calling in a favor from your dad.Vouching for me, and stuff.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Although the additional boys had been hysterical with devastation and some rather insulting words for Louis, they take the hint to quiet and move to disperse in order to let Louis and Harry have their moment, kickstarted by Liam, being the great captain he is and nodding them off.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry doesn’t answer for so long that Louis might shake him, because Louis honestly thinks everyone’s taking this way too seriously.He could’ve gotten <em>expelled</em>.<em>Harry</em> could’ve gotten expelled.But all that they got is a co-captain having to miss out on an indefinite number of matches—which yeah, that blows.That blows really bad.But Louis can’t reverse it, so. Here he is.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I…I know how much you hate your dad, so,” Louis continues, toying with his sleeves under Harry’s watery gaze.“It means a lot, you having gotten him to do that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Fuck</em> my dad,” Harry’s finally breathing out, before reaching out an arm and just bringing the boy into his chest by the back of his head, ushering them into a hug where Louis lets go of whatever he was holding in and wraps his arms around him.“God, how could you <em>do</em> something so <em>stupid</em>?For <em>me</em>…I…”. His words are more choked than anything, the boy probably seconds from a sob as Louis’ fingers grasp onto him.The emotions are starting to hit Louis as well.  So much for his lighthearted coping.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I think we’ve both learned being in love makes me stupid,” Louis presses into the boy’s shirt, a single tear soiling the material of it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s squeezing him some more, with fingers tracing through his hair that Louis closes his eyes to.And if he’d ever displayed the sentiment of never wanting to let go, he has never meant it as much as he does now. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because he can feel it.He knows they can <em>both </em>feel it.The only path that this is about to lead to.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When they’re pulling back, Harry’s hand sliding from the back of his head, down to the base of his neck as they’re both sniffling at each other, Louis’ arms at both of Harry's elbows, it’s like they don’t even have to speak.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Only barely does Harry’s lip twitch upward in the midst of his tears, Louis wishing he’d been watching closely enough for the dimple that disappears as fast as it comes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“We…we <em>should.</em>Shouldn’t we,” Harry’s finally breathing out, his hand removing itself from Louis’ neck and coming to rub over his own red nose, Louis following suit and letting go of him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ wordless, albeit emotionally a wreck when he nods, not knowing it would hurt this much, just having Harry feel the same way, <em>agree </em>with him about the split.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Starting to see what you were talking about,” Harry continues, looking down in between them with a heavy head.“I just really…<em>really</em> wish you weren’t right.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Louis huffs, stretching his sleeves to his fingertips. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The reappearance of Harry’s faint dimple is in reaction to Harry’s low eyes watching Louis' fingers, Louis having been watching his face.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I always love when you do that.The thing with your sleeves,” he tells him, the tips of both of their shoes facing each other with only about a foot of space in between.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I always love <em>you</em>,” Louis says matter-of-factly, Harry’s glistening eyes coming back up to him, and Louis mentally scolding himself for making this harder than it has to be.Regardless, he continues on anyway, just because he can’t get away without saying these things.“Always will.For being my first, like…everything."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Even as short-lived as we were?” Harry’s asking, his voice sinking to an innocent whisper.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis only nods, grinning through his tears.“Even as short as we were.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it’s a soft moment between them, Louis not having known that it could hurt so <em>badly</em> and bring them so much understanding at the same time.Never having known, that first time he’d looked into the boy’s uncertain, huge eyes, that he’d eventually be crying at them too, after having fallen in love with them.Life moves so fast.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry quickly sticks a hand right in between them in a “put her there” fashion, Louis’ eyes brightening at it.“Well.I guess I hereby break up with you, Louis Tomlinson.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ admiring his hand before joining his palm to it as well, a firm handshake between them as a tiny sad grin splays his lips.“And I hereby break up with <em>you</em>, Harry Styles.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Alright, this has been fun, I’ll always care about you, and all that good stuff,” Harry says, his voice dramatized for comedic effect, Louis actually letting out a giggle in response to it. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And, uh...” Louis adds, just a bit reluctant and careful with his words.“If it’s meant to be, it'll be made known to us again someday."</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s face softens even further at that, their palms tenderly holding onto each other now, before the boy barely nods once.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“‘Course it will.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And with that, they’re over, and their hands are leaving each other. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it’s fine.It’s okay. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Well of course, as of now, it <em>doesn’t </em>feel fine, or okay, or anywhere near that, but that’s exactly what breakups are.He’s going to need <em>time</em> in order to get back to being completely okay with this reality.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he can already see the beginnings of it when he’s reminded that some of his teammates had come here to see what his fate was.He’s immersing himself into them after Harry had signed off due to having a class to get to, and Louis was soon met with aggressive knuckles to his scalp, more verbal declarations that he’s stupid in the midst of hugs, followed by solemn, comforting words upon hearing that he and Harry had just broken up with each other (for <em>real</em> this time).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it’s all alright.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ (somewhat) proud to say that he’s going through yet another one of his firsts—his first proper heartbreak, after an official, solidified <em>breakup</em>.Because he was in an official <em>relationship.</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he’s got it down pat as it’s really hard for him to come out of his apartment—or even his bedroom—for sometime.And this time it <em>isn’t </em>because he’s buried under the bedsheets with Harry.It’s just that he doesn’t have any practices to look forward to, or the love of his life to look forward to, and even though there’s still gardening and actual classes that call his name, he just doesn’t want to face the world.Especially since a lot of people are aware of what went down and he just doesn’t <em>care</em> about explaining it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So he ends up missing a lot of classes, but surprisingly enough, getting all of his work done anyway, since he has nothing better to do while being stuck in his bed all day, with nothing but his own blankets to cuddle him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s also gotten into the cliché habit of ice cream and rom coms that he tears up at deep into the night, only having tried it at first to see if it actually helps anything, and <em>it does</em>.He’s also discovered that he actually quite likes the niche flavor of sea salt caramel ice cream. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’s tried to force Niall into as many of those nights with him as he could, always promising the boy they’ll watch something more exciting, but after movie searching, he always comes to the conclusion that there’s nothing good besides the romantic comedy film that he’d stumbled upon.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis had even let his mother know at some point in the past that he had a boyfriend, although he almost genuinely doesn’t remember doing that.He figures he’d probably been in a love-induced trance and wasn’t really <em>present</em> when he’d told the woman, so when he’s talking to her one night after the credits of <em>Fools Rush In </em>are rolling, it quite throws him just a bit that she asks where Harry is. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Which brought Louis to break the news to her (receiving an astounded “<em>already?”).</em>And caused Louis to break down into tears again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because yes, Louis is going through the natural process of heartbreak, and managing it as best he can, but at the end of the day, it fucking hurts.It fucking hurts like Louis never really grasped before, when he’d just been an observer to many people’s love lives, choosing not to dabble in it.But now he’s <em>in it</em>, and the only texts he and Harry have sent in the past two months are occasionally checking in to make sure the other is okay and lying that they are.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis had experienced one weak night of saying no, that he wasn’t okay, although he claimed it was because he was out of ice cream, all for the boy to show up at his door about an hour later at two a.m., just to hand him a freshly bought tub of sea salt caramel (which is <em>pretty </em>hard to find) and wish him a goodnight.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s even more excruciating because he lives right <em>there</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But honestly, Louis’ just looking forward to that point in the future where they can be friends again, and around each other without that heavy feeling in their chests.That would signify that Louis has finally gotten past it.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">What is it, month three?</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ definitely not counting.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All he’s focusing on right now is <em>finally </em>being able to get back to practicing with his boys.</span>
</p><p class="p1">Although he's still not quite granted the right to once again participate in matches, and honestly doesn't even know if that'll happen before the season ends.  It's fine though<span class="s1">—just knowing that he can be here to give his direction and be somewhat part of a whole again is all he needs, if it's all he can get.</span></p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Winter break was a good one.He’d gotten to scarf down cookies and hot cocoa with his mother and sisters, and made them all swear not to even mention the “H” word, although sometimes they broke that rule and got a face full of couch pillow because of it.Louis’ mother even tried to set him up, making them go to a Christmas party her job was throwing and practically pushing Louis into the unsuspecting (rather handsome) boy, and even as awkward as that was, Louis’ grateful for her capacity to be thoughtful.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He and Harry had even texted each other on Christmas Eve; Harry to wish Louis a Happy Birthday, and then Louis right back to wish him a Merry Christmas for the next day.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And admittedly, ever since the moment they broke up, and Louis had claimed the universe would show itself if they were meant to be, he had been kind of waiting for the universe to perform its magic, but nothing has come.He hadn’t even seen the boy walking around campus casually even once, hadn’t encountered some kind of strangely perfect occurrence that led to them both accidentally falling right into each other’s arms, hadn’t heard any “special” songs of theirs come up in random places.Just…nothing.It was almost like he didn’t even exist anymore.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">The only time they had physically come across each other was that lone ice cream night, and before then, when Harry had to get his items out of Louis’ apartment and car, and then when Louis had to get any of his things out of the boy’s apartment too.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But now, as Louis’ walking up to his first soccer practice in what feels like an eternity, he’s long accepted it.The winter break in his hometown really gave him some perspective, and space to clear his mind.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So he hasn’t made it a big deal to enter the field early as he usually does (before he’d lost his routine while dating Harry) in order to do his meditation, the outside air feeling particularly refreshing as he breathes it in, just happy to be able to do the sport he’s always loved again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s sat at his spot on the bench, legs folded up underneath himself in the usual way.He’s actually using a highlighter in his notes and appearing to be <em>legitimately</em> studying, and it’s natural, the way his eyes just come up to acknowledge Louis.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Welcome back,” he’s saying nicely, obviously trying to control it, but not helping the way both rows of his teeth start to show with his smile.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m glad to <em>be</em> back,” Louis tells him, stepping in front of him, clasping his hands low in front of himself.Harry quirks up an eyebrow as though expecting Louis to continue, bringing Louis to take in a faint breath, although he hadn’t really planned to say anything else.He improvises anyway.“How was your holiday break?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry purses his lips before answering.“I stayed right here through all of it, so um…you know, the usual.Netflix, junk food, and sleeping in until three p.m..”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis lets out small laughter.“Oh, I definitely envy you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Everyone should,” Harry jokes matter-of-factly, his lips loose as he chuckles softly as well. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Quietude grows on them after their small bout of amusement, Louis sort of obsessed with this new <em>aura </em>he can see around Harry, like a cloud of freshness, his lavender sweater looking cozy on him and accentuating his slightly cold-blushed cheeks.He looks as light as a feather.Now that they’re not dating.Good for him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m gonna go meditate now,” Louis says, pointing over his shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” Harry replies, smile fading as he just blinks.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis backs away with one last tiny grin and nod, hiking his bag on his shoulder.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m happy to see you,” Harry begins, not looking up at Louis’ eyes as he says it, Louis pausing where he’d been about to turn around.“…back here.And around, and stuff.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ voice is gentle when he replies, contrasting greatly with the chaotic waves swishing around right where his heart lies.“You too,” he says simply, because it’s the truth.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s a warm moment shared between them, although Harry’s grin is a bit meek as he scratches at his chin and appears as though there may even faintly be something else on his mind.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Actually, um…” Harry begins, Louis barely raising an eyebrow, especially since the boy isn’t holding his gaze at all now.Harry’s vaguely got a thumb pointing over his shoulder as he shifts where he’s sitting.“I’d kind’ve…I—“ he begins, Louis blinking dumbly, before Harry’s just seeming to shake his head and push himself to stand after he sets his book aside, holding palms out toward Louis and going “Just wait here.If that's cool.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ way beyond clueless as to what’s going on now as he’s joining his hands in front of himself and trying not to drain his fingers of blood circulation by pinching them too hard with nerves, and he simply has his eyes following Harry where Harry’s walking all the way towards the fence that separates the stands from the field, seemingly fetching something that’s laid against it.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And the instant Louis becomes aware of what he’s fetching, his breaths are suspended with the way he goes still.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because it’s a bicycle.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And not even just <em>any </em>bicycle, but the black, shiny, <em>stolen </em>one from their first date night, Harry rolling it right back over, his eyes fully down and his demeanor outrageously uncertain about everything, as he’s coming back in front of Louis.Louis’ pretty sure he’s resembling that of a statue at the moment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’d kinda been, um.  Looking for it ever since that night.  You know, under-the-radar, and stuff,” Harry tells him, rubbing his nose briefly, one of his dimples faintly showing.His eyes are meeting Louis for a short moment when he’s looking up, that faint glimmer to them giving Louis a whispered glimpse into the past, where their eyes would always hold <em>some</em> sort of spark whenever they held gaze with each other.“Because, like I’d said—I knew a person who could find it.  It was laying in an alley somewhere.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ gesturing his hand out with his palm up incredulously, his lips parting long before he even says anything.“Why didn’t you <em>lead </em>with this?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Because I’m stupid, and strange,” Harry replies, shrugging his shoulders with a half chuckle as he continues to hold the handle bars to the bike.“Also was kinda hoping you’d already see it when you entered, which—why <em>didn’t </em>you?”There’s clearly a hint of tease there, things feeling a lot more comfortable and lighthearted between them now, even though Louis’ insides are still absolutely floored at the fact that his bicycle’s even in front of him right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis scratches behind his head as he answers. “Guess I’m stupid and strange too,” he replies easily, now finally being granted with the appearance of both of Harry’s dimples. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He musters up every ounce of earnest emotion that he can with his next few words, voice quiet and real at the edge of the huge soccer field.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Thank you, Harry,” Louis begins.“Really.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It was no problem, seriously,” Harry’s replying, shaking his head at himself.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ stepping forward with outreached arms, and Harry appears to assume Louis was planning to take the bike from him, so it makes sense that once Louis’ hugging him instead, and Harry has already relinquished his hold on the bicycle, it’s making a faint, crunchy thud in the grass.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis honestly doesn’t even know what to say to Harry to convey how much it means to him—how much <em>he </em>means to him, regardless of anything, regardless of time, regardless of space.So he just presses it into him as they share a friendly one, one arm over the shoulder one under the waist, cemented there and comfortably warm, Louis trying not to count the seconds to where this would be considered “too long”.A part of him doesn’t care.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Oh god.Please tell me I’m not gonna have to break up a soap fight between you guys again,” comes the sudden voice of Liam, finally bringing Louis out of a moment which, truthfully, he didn’t see himself being sucked out of anytime soon.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">When they’re pulling back from each other and Louis’ letting out a lighthearted chuckle, he’s met with not even <em>only</em> Liam, but a good handful of teammates who have just embarked upon the field and are coming from the entrance fence, clearly seeming to have come to practice early.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And I’m happy to see you <em>too</em> Liam,” Louis replies, his smile almost ear to ear as he’s stepping back and reaching for the bike that’s laid in the grass.“<em>All</em> of you.With your jokes, and pranks, and overbearing interest in my love life.I’ve missed all of it so much.”And of course, the words seem a bit sarcastic, but he genuinely means them—he’s fucking happy to be here, and able to play his favorite sport again.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And as he’s preparing to roll his bike in order to set it off to the side somewhere, the last thing he offers to Harry in front of him is a nod, one that’s warm, and assuring, probably taken by Harry as another “thank you”—although in Louis’ mind, it’s definitely more of a “thank you for existing”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And after he’s done away with the bike, Louis simply just turns around and heads toward his area, grateful for how smoothly and warmly everything went, and ready for a fulfilling, refreshing meditation to mark the beginning of his return to his teammates, as well as an awesome semester.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Not only does today go well with all his teammates accepting him back in with open arms and slaps to the back of his head (that one actually comes from Coach), but every practice and match (that he only gets to observe) that comes throughout the rest of the season runs smoothly enough, he and Harry able to coexist where Louis’ alternating between being on the field breaking a sweat and on the sidelines somewhat near him, and Harry's at his never-ending spot on the bench, right back to regularity where he shouts unwarranted profanity at the team and gives tips on things he doesn’t know anything about. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Even though Louis, the observer he is, could’ve guessed, it’s quite heartwarming when he’s told by the other boys that Harry doesn’t sell anymore.It’s quite heartwarming indeed.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And only once, or three times, (throughout the <em>entire </em>rest of the season though, so it was at <em>least</em> spaced out a little) he <em>does</em> have a “pretty boy” accompanying him, whether it’s to “help him study” (he claims to Coach) or play with his curly hair while Harry organizes his stuff, or just lay against him with the backs of their heads rested upon Harry’s shoulder, but Louis knows he’s allowed to do that.It doesn’t matter how it makes Louis feel, he’s <em>allowed</em> to do that.</span>
</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*</p><p class="p2"> </p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“You <em>do</em> know that just because I’m one of the few guys here, doesn’t mean I’m physically <em>equipped</em> for that duty, right?” Louis’ asking, where he’s sat way too comfortably in his unfolded lawn chair to get up and fulfill the request he’s just been asked.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Louis,” his mother’s saying, right when she’d been about to go right back to talking to one of her friends where they’re standing in a conversation huddle near him.And although it comes out casually, he knows it’s a warning announcement of his name, the lady basically telling Louis not to make her get out of character in her long white sundress and floppy hat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Jesus, you’re an <em>athlete</em> for goodness’ sake,” one of his cousins is laughing in the unfolded chair to the left of him, just as Louis is huffing and pushing himself up out of his seat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He’d just been told by his mother to go and walk the few blocks to the outdoor market in order to get two bags of ice for this family-slash-friends outside grill thing that they’re having (Louis’ family enjoys a plethora of events together, in case that hasn’t been picked up on yet).The cooler ice had been melting, and Louis’ mom, being the people pleaser that she is, had immediately suggested her wonderful, strong son Louis could go trek to get them, in eighty degree heat.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But Louis will not fret, he will just take the fifteen minute walk over to the outdoor market since his sister has the keys to the car and isn’t answering him, and in no time, hopefully if the ice doesn’t melt on the way, he will be back to the event in order to lounge in his chair in his baggy cargo pants and paper thin white t-shirt, enjoying this somewhat vacation his family is taking outside of the city, deep into the summer.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Once he’s finally broken just a faint sweat and making his way up to the gigantic cooler where all the free bags of ice are kept, he’s already blowing a sigh out of his mouth once he peeps from afar that the thing is completely empty.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ugh,” Louis begins, bringing the back of his palm to his sweaty forehead, before he catches a glimpse of a figure in his peripheral, casually walking away from the scene with <em>three bags, </em>two stacked on his left shoulder, one hanging from his right hand.“<em>Hey—</em>do you really need <em>three bags?”</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, for the final round of…”. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Those are the only words that make it out once the figure is turning around, Louis with raised, bitter eyebrows that slowly lower once they’re facing each other, and.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s Harry.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He hadn’t noticed from behind, because the boy has on a zip up hoodie that had been on over his head, blocking out his curls, which are now cascading and almost like a halo to Louis once the boy has turned toward him.His hoodie is open right down the middle and made of thin, almost see through baby blue material.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s a pretty surreal moment, is what it is, whilst they stand there with several feet in between them, just a few people and groups still moving around them to visit the different sections and outdoor restaurants of the market, not aware of the entire <em>moment </em>the two of them are having right now.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because it’s the middle of summer.And Louis’ out of town on <em>vacation </em>with his family.And Harry doesn’t have any connection to the city they’re in right now (or at least not that Louis’ been told of by him) and neither does Louis, so the fact that they’re even staring at each other is pretty insane.</span>
</p><p class="p1">It's also the first time they've stared at each other in person in what's literally <em>months.  </em>After soccer season ended they'd kind of just vanished in terms of ever physically being around each other, so it's a lot to readjust to right now, seeing the boy in the flesh.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Instead of just continuing to stand there like a dazed idiot, Louis pushes his sunglasses up into his hair, before joining his fingers in front of himself.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“The final round of what?” Louis asks, lips just barely stretching into a smirk.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um…” Harry begins, clearing his throat and shaking his head, as though bringing himself back to life.“First Annual Towel Boy Summer Olympics.Ice is gonna get dumped on people for competition.It’s very stupid.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Sounds kinda fun to me,” Louis offers with a raise of his shoulders, taking a slow step towards the boy and twiddling his fingers.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It actually is,” Harry begins, finally starting to break into something of a smile.“The guys I work with are awesome.They come up with stupid fun shit like this when we have free time.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Where do you work?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I got this <em>super</em> cool country club gig that came with housing and everything for the summer.And, um…it’s actually a pretty reliable…responsible way to make money, I think,” Harry tells Louis, seeming to strain just a bit under the ice that’s still at one shoulder and weighing down his right arm.“So that explains why <em>I’m </em>here right now.As for <em>you</em>…I would assume stalking?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis lets out a giggle at that one, not even knowing why he brings faint knuckles up to his lips in order to stifle it.“Family vacation,” he tells him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, I think I’m gonna go with stalking,” Harry decides, nodding at himself.“Better for my ego.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis walks up with a shake of his head, muttering an “I’ll help you with that” and taking the ice bags down from the boy’s shoulder, Harry sighing with a breath of relief, before his face is more blinking and bamboozled once he realizes Louis’ simply taking them.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sure you don’t need all these, do you?” Louis’ asking innocently, blinking prettily at him as he holds them low at both of his hands.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s furrowing his brows and parting his lips with offense, although there’s a happy twitch that he can’t keep hidden.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Actually, I <em>do</em>,” Harry tells him matter-of-factly.“And you don’t get to take them from me just because you’re giving me those—those <em>blue</em> eyes of yours…”. His words become more hushed, settled as they hold gaze, Louis making the most of this by looking as innocent and blinking in the face as he can, eyes twinkling at Harry.“…and being so close to making me actually <em>buckle </em>right now with pleasant surprise that I almost can’t stand to look at you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis breaks out of his cute, innocent demeanor, giggling into his chest and trying to mentally ignore the way the bags are putting a downward strain on his arms (they <em>are</em> heavy—just like he’d told his mother, he isn’t the person for this job).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Don’t worry.I’ll just owe you, Harry,” Louis tells him kindly, quietly, Harry’s slightly parted lips closing as he exhales fully, clearly still a bit thrown at Louis’ presence that he doesn’t know what to say.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I hope you know I take it very seriously when people owe me things,” Harry’s replying, his phone dinging in his pocket right in the middle of his sentence, Louis not being able to hold in the faint chortle once Harry’s pulling his phone out to check it.Louis won’t deny that something deflates in him just a little, because he knows by the slight change in Harry’s facial expression, what’s about to happen next.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Fuck, I’ve gotta be back,” Harry begins, biting the inside of his cheek for a moment as he pockets his phone.“But it’s been nice to, like…to look at you—I mean <em>see </em>you.That was kind of a weird way of saying it—”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well we <em>are</em> looking at each other,” Louis gestures, pointing back and forth between him and Harry.“And they’re <em>synonyms</em>, so I don’t think it’s all bad.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Please, Louis, no English lessons in the middle of summer, I beg of you.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Hey.</em>I was trying to back <em>you</em> up, since clearly you don’t know how to speak,” Louis fires back, eyebrows creased with offense but lips just barely twitching upward.“But fine, I’ll just let you get back to your country club shenanigans.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That I shall,” Harry’s replying, the boy already stepping back on his feet and swinging the one bag he's left with over his shoulder, Louis absolutely hating it on the inside but trying to keep it together on the outside.“And um, maybe…like," the boy’s beginning, Louis just blinking and waiting again, <em>thinking </em>he might know what the boy is going to say, but also aware he could be completely off. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s eyes aren’t directly on his now as he’s backing up on his feet, scratching behind his ear with his free hand. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Maybe one bag of ice will be enough,” Harry’s finally saying, slapping a palm to the bag that’s over his shoulder, lips pulling crookedly on one side with a smirk, Louis hesitant and slow in grinning right back with a nod as Harry’s preparing to turn around.“See you, Louis,” is the last thing being said before he’s fully faced another way, Louis watching his back now, watching the boy pull his phone out of his pocket to probably check his new messages from his coworkers, Louis left wondering if Harry’s facial expression has changed the same way his own has.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because Louis thought maybe he’d say something else.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it’s alright. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s definitely alright as Louis’ breathing in and out carefully and relaxing his bones, before turning around with the ice bags in tow and starting on his frivolous journey back to where he’d originally been.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But he can’t help that, just about ten seconds into his walk when his phone buzzes with a notification, he immediately puts everything down, just because something in him had stupidly hoped it would be the boy, which is stupid and makes no sense.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Except it <em>is</em> the boy, and Louis’ heart warms by the second as his eyes fall upon the new text message.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><b>Harry: </b> <em>i was gonna say maybe we could hang out tonight.if u want to</em></span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And the warm feeling is even more encompassing when Louis’ receiving another text as he’s standing there, even briefly glancing over his shoulder to see if the boy is anywhere, although he’s clearly long left.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b>Harry: </b><em>we’re going out for tacos after work. it’ll be casual</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Louis doesn’t know why this stirs everything within him so much, just the thought that the boy had been so flustered <em>in front </em>of Louis that he immediately texted him right after they’d left each other.The fact that the boy <em>had </em>been thinking of saying what Louis had been hoping for.The fact that he’d even tried to scramble to convince Louis it’ll be “casual”, which—what does that even <em>mean</em>?The boy is truly something else.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And so Louis just texts him back with a simple answer before continuing on his journey, trying not to grin like an absolute idiot.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"> <b>Louis:</b> <em>so should i wear my Casual Pants?</em> </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">This of course results in a slew of back and forth, pointless and joking text messages, Louis honestly not having remembered the last time they even had a string of texts like this.  Actually, if he looks right above their recent chain it's just Harry asking where the last away match was supposed to be at (even though as team assistant he should've been the <em>first </em>to know).</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">They text all up until the moment that Louis is (clearly) going to go and hang out with Harry at some taco place with a bunch of other guys Louis doesn’t even know.But Louis is fine with that, fine with being surrounded by people, and getting to interact in person with Harry for what honestly feels like the first time in centuries, and <em>especially</em> escape anymore of that hotel room family bonding that he knows is going to be forced upon him.He even has to come up with some impressive excuse to his mother about how he was going to go put gas in the car for their trip back tomorrow.So he will need to have this tank full of gas by the end of tonight, of course.  </span>
</p><p class="p1">He doesn't quite know how he'll explain how long he takes to do it, but that' something to deal with later.</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But <em>now</em>, all he’s thinking about is fitting himself in with the bright eyed guys that Harry works with, all of them scattered among the different booths and nearby tables and clearly, as most people tend to, already having taken a liking to Harry.  After Harry's already just introduced Louis as "Louis", they're sharing fond anecdotes about hysterical shit Harry has done at work, and the rude customers they dealt with today because apparently the job is full of unthoughtful snobs, and reminiscing over the exciting competitions they'd had amongst themselves during their downtime, which was what Harry needed the ice for.  Apparently the one named Will won the ice challenge, although Louis' having just a bit of trouble following what the competition even was as they're speaking over each other and accusing one another of cheating.  They're almost like the soccer boys, except they don't seem to physically assault each other as much with their arguments, or roar thunderously.  </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis eventually has no choice but to reveal Harry's past as the college team Water Boy when he's being asked about himself, and honestly didn't know that Harry wouldn't have told them already.  He's simply mentioning Harry's team assistant position in passing as he's talking about his preoccupation with soccer himself and how their last season went, of course leaving out the part where he got canned toward the end of it, as well as the part where he and Harry dated.  It just doesn't feel necessary at the moment, and obviously, Harry didn't introduce Louis as his "ex".</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And it all just feels…normal.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Which Louis hates to admit, is a bit bittersweet.Like, he’d <em>wanted </em>things to eventually feel normal, and that’s sort of what he’s getting as he’s pressed near the edge of one of the booths with Harry by his side, the both of them just a bit squished into each other since there are more than enough bodies in this booth, and Harry and his never-ending pride has just agreed to an arm wrestling match with the one named Riker, who had repeatedly claimed that the reason Harry was a Water Boy instead of an actual athlete was because he was a wimp.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry loses of course, and then makes the bold claim that even <em>Louis, </em>who actually <em>does</em> play soccer, couldn’t beat him, since Riker apparently has “super human strength”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">So naturally, Louis tries his hand at it, and ends up beating him.It <em>was</em> quite a close match though, the guy only tapping out because they’d gone on for too long and his arm got tired.It all happens much to everyone’s praise and hooting, Harry setting comically bored eyes on him and proclaiming “you couldn’t just <em>let</em> him lose?For my pride?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And everything’s funny, and easy, and fucking normal, even as they’re nearly wrecking havoc in this taco restaurant until close, and are practically forced out onto the streets, the guys calling it a night, apparently needing to be up bright and early in the morning, and claiming that it was nice to meet Louis.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Louis and Harry find themselves at a clear uncertainty on what to do, since, for two regular, <em>casual</em> people, this is where the night ends, and it usually doesn’t involve lingering in front of each other under the well-past-midnight sky in the middle of the parking lot.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Guess, I’d…” Louis begins, scratching behind his head as Harry’s just stepped toward him and placed his hands in the pockets of the baby blue hoodie he's still wearing.“Better get going.Before the gas station closes on me.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s quirking an eyebrow up and barely rocking on his feet.“Gas station?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, I’d like—told my mom I’d put gas in the car, even though I really didn’t <em>want</em> to, but—“ Louis begins, waving his hands casually and deciding he shouldn’t talk too much.“It’s a whole thing, but yeah.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“It’s almost two a.m. though,” Harry replies, voice quietly concerned as the sounds of the cars of his coworkers are starting up in the background.“Can’t be safe alone.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Ah, I’m fine, and I’m a <em>grown man</em>, and all that,” Louis tells him, laughing just a bit and not even knowing if Harry would pick up on it, the tiny reference to the more beginning stages of their relationship.Honestly, Harry looks like he just might, the way both dimples appear on either side of his cheeks and his brows are just faintly expressive—maybe.Or maybe Louis’ just looking too closely.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Styles</em>, you coming?” comes the sudden question, one of his peers having lowered their window, apparently because Harry had ridden with him here, or he’s driving him back, because they all do <em>live</em> at the country club.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um, no, he’s—“ Louis begins, just deciding not to <em>think </em>and <em>stammer </em>and <em>stall </em>too much more as he steps forward for the reach of Harry’s wrist, throwing the loud words toward the guy who has his window down.“He’s coming with me.I’ll drop him by.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry looks just faintly, but pleasantly thrown as he blinks down at the wrist contact, following in Louis’ footsteps toward his car in the parking lot and also confirming with the guy “yeah, you can go ahead”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And he only responds with an “alright, cool” and a casual shrug of his shoulder—which <em>thank god</em>, it doesn’t seem like Harry’s dating this guy at all. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1"><em>Not </em>that it matters.It doesn’t matter.It doesn’t.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">All that matters right now is the both of them climbing into Louis’ car, having more of a moment to <em>themselves</em> which actually seems quite needed, able to more properly catch up on the details of what they’ve been up to this summer, Louis not holding back in admitting that he’d actually gotten <em>really</em> into the Spice Girls for some reason, the girl group sensation kind of having become his guilty pleasure that Harry <em>instantly </em>makes fun of him for, right as they’re pulling into the empty gas station, which Louis can admit, is eerily empty, and secluded, and creepy, and he’s glad he’s not alone.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Zig-a-zig-ah?” </em>Harry asks incredulously, right as Louis’ turned off the car.“<em>That’s </em>what does it for you?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“They have <em>other</em> songs you know,” Louis replies defensively, opening his car door and letting himself out.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">He only faintly doesn’t expect it when Harry’s opening his car door and letting himself out too, Louis glancing behind himself once he’s stood out of his door, then turning to face the boy where he’s on the other side of the car, just now setting his arms nicely on top of it and Louis barely able to see his nice grin peeking over the car.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Hi,” Harry says, chin comfy within his folded arms.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis tries with tight lips to keep his grin barely there, only flashing kind eyes at Harry for half a second before turning towards the gas pump.“Hey.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s a period of gentle silence under the moon for a second, Louis overly conscious as he’s turning to inspect the prices, and the different grades of gas, not actually pulling out his wallet or anything for some reason.<span class="Apple-converted-space">  Which is probably alright because through all this aimless staring, he's reading that he has to go inside the gas station market to put money on a pump.  </span>He's still mostly at a loss for what to do, simply because he’s hearing Harry's footsteps as he's rounding the car and coming near him.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I just…” Harry begins, huffing easily, coming to step next to Louis, neither of them facing each other but side by side.“I just wanna take the chance to say this, since I kinda regretted not having said it before.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis only makes a faint, barely even real noise of question, not looking at the boy beside him, but feeling his heated presence.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry,” Harry says on a soft exhale, just gently moving back to let himself rest against the car.“For getting a bit—well like, <em>really</em> immature for a second there.Kinda slipped into my old ways.With not knowing how to deal with getting hit with everything, and stuff.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ pursing his lips and exhaling through his nose, letting himself gently fall against the car as well, one of his hands sliding into his jacket pocket.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Nah, I was kinda hard on you,” Louis responds, feeling frail just because it’s just now dawning on him, how they’d never just <em>talked </em>about it, just talked about <em>everything</em>, until now.“Especially at the hotel.I just, I don’t know…”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“That still doesn’t give me any sort of excuse,” Harry replies.“And I just <em>have </em>to recognize it as bad behavior, because it's part of making sure I become better than that.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis chews on the inside of his cheek just a bit, faintly feeling Harry’s right arm brushing his left.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I get that,” Louis replies with a single nod.“But I can’t just sit here and let you take all of the blame,” Louis replies with a chuckle.“I mean after all, I strung you along for no reason afterward—not to mention I kept you a secret to the people most important to me, so—but really <em>that </em>was more of a thing of—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s something of a miracle, the way Harry’s finishing it for him, just as Louis’ reluctantly completing his own sentence himself, where he’s saying, “me not being ready”, and Harry going “you not being ready”.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It’s clearly something the boy had realized too since their separation and more opportunities to think, Louis faintly grinning just a bit more as they’re turning to meet eyes with each other for only a few seconds.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Louis replies, blowing out a huff.“Looking back, I had <em>just</em> come out, and was <em>so</em> not ready for it—like everything that <em>comes</em> with it.Yet so badly, I <em>wanted </em>to be.Wanted to get ready just for you, Harry.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And Louis knows this now.He couldn’t even figure out—or barely even <em>tried</em> to balance everything out with his life and his relationship.Just <em>diving </em>right into it because it was shiny and new, all while not even being fully equipped to be as open with it as he would’ve liked to be since he was freshly out of the closet.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Aw.</em>I’m touched,” Harry replies mock-lovingly, hand to his chest, although it’s clearly more of a way to shield himself from how flustered he truly is.“And I did the worst possible thing I could do as your first boyfriend—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, Harry.You did nothing <em>wrong</em>, and are perfectly <em>allowed</em>—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“No, I know I—I’m entitled to as much sex as I want, and as many boys as I need to fulfill my addiction, and all that,” Harry replies, Louis just simply quietly swallowing instead of saying anything.“But what I <em>did—</em>for the specific <em>reasons </em>that I had—definitely falls into the bad category of that carelessly reactive, immature behavior that I’m letting go of.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis hums faintly, figuring there’s no reason to argue with that, pushing his glasses up upon his nose and deciding to finally give Harry his warm grin directly, breaking the barrier between facing each other and not facing each other. </span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Well I’m glad you’re wanting better for yourself,” Louis’ telling him, grin polite and only a tad shy.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s turning to him too, Louis’ heart only picking up slightly and Harry’s lips parted as well, and although Louis may have just been overanalyzing a millisecond glance, he <em>thinks </em>the boy’s eyes dip down to his mouth—maybe.It might’ve just been the upper area above his top lip.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah,” Harry’s replying after a moment, shoulders shrugging with it, as though he’s at a loss for anything else to say.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Mhm,” Louis’ saying right back, also void of words to utter, but still not wanting this comfortable, yet hesitant eye contact to end.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay, so—“ Harrybegins, reluctantly pointing towards the gas market.“Should we go—to get the gas?Or—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“<em>Yeah</em>, yeah we should,” Louis’ replying, because duh, that would make a lot more sense than just standing here looking at each other dumbly, and obviously Harry’s on board with that as he’s turning around to start towards where they should be headed, Louis taking just a little longer than he should in staying where he is rested against the car, before finally pushing himself upright.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But it seems it doesn’t matter, because Harry’s suddenly turning right around, even though he’d been a considerable few feet away, fist in the air by his head with a contained <em>something </em>as he’s walking back up to Louis.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“I’m sorry, I just—“ Harry begins, eyes only closing tightly for half a second, Louis’ own gaze growing in size due to being puzzled.“Do you wanna go on a date with me?”Harry’s asking, just sort of squeezing the words out as his fingers finally open, standing directly in front of Louis now, although there are about three feet of space between the toes of their shoes.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis’ voice is hushed, and he's blinking just a few more times than necessary and already unconsciously stretching out one of his sleeves.“What?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Um…I just,” Harry huffs, running a hand down the back of his neck, and suddenly looking more uncertain of absolutely everything, even though he powers through it as he keeps his eyes right on top of Louis’.“I thought maybe this was the universe.Or fate.That we’re here together, so far away from everything.Or that we even <em>met </em>in the first place, and like…”.The boy is swallowing just a bit clumsily, his hair ringlet tightly around his moving finger now as Louis’ breathing mechanically.“When I saw you earlier today, it was like you floated right out of my dreams, and it’s the first thing I thought about.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s definitely just a faint tremble to Louis’ bottom lip that he can’t control, just hoping that it’s not too visible out in the nighttime like this, with only the quivering white gas station light accompanying them from high up above.Louis pulls his lips apart, their gazes wholeheartedly connected, Harry’s irises endlessly earnest, in a way that Louis knows is probably right outside of his comfort zone.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“And I understand if you’re still not ready, which would bring me to look like an idiot—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Me too,” Louis’ replying with what’s nearly a whisper, before taking his bottom lip between his teeth just to contain everything, contain the little ball of energy inside of him who’d been desperate for another chance, ready to just jump right out.But not having known if Harry would want that anymore.If he’s not trying to go down that road again.And also so <em>terrified </em>of ruining everything another time.“It was the first thing I thought about too,” Louis continues.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It honestly appears like the same sensation is felt by Harry, the boy’s lips holding more of an emotional curve to them, and eyes filling with this magnificent gloss that can only be described as a mixture of relief and budding elation.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Both of their grins are growing in tiny little pieces as they’re nodding at each other, clearly at a loss for what to do, but knowing that it just involves <em>each other</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Cool, so.Maybe we could just start somewhere simple,” Harry replies, rubbing his hand over his knuckles and just fiddling with himself.“And I’m guessing that's a <em>yes</em> on the date?”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yes, <em>but</em>—“ Louis begins, the raising of one finger instantly making Harry’s face go blank.“Only if it’s the spontaneous kind.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">It seems whatever remaining tension there had been, floats right out of Harry’s body as his shoulders are coming down, his dimples somehow even deeper right now and being to blame for every butterfly Louis’ feeling at the moment.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Of <em>course</em> it’ll be the spontaneous kind,” Harry’s responding, nodding way too many times as Louis is literally bruising his bottom lip with how hard he’s biting back his wide grin. He’s suddenly barely putting a hand up, adding “of course, not right <em>now</em>, though—“</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Yeah, preferably at a <em>non</em> murderous hour of the day,” Louis’ replying with a nod.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry’s chuckling as he’s pulling at his earlobe.“Duh.But actually—<em>maybe </em>putting ourselves in danger of getting robbed could make for <em>quite</em> a spontaneous rush.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Louis puts out a careful hand.“I don’t value spontaneity <em>that</em> much.”</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">There’s some more delighted laughter shared between them, Louis almost feeling like they’d never stopped with each other.Like it’d been normal earlier, but that’s the kind of “normal” that Louis has with everybody, which is why it was a bit unnerving.<em>This </em>here, this is the kind of energy that he only shares with Harry, and he wouldn’t replace it for anything else in the world.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Guess we should get that gas then,” Harry’s saying now, pressing his lips together for one last grin, before stepping back on his heel and turning around.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">But of course Louis at this moment musters up the fearlessness to stalk forward just the few feet between them, grab a good handful of Harry’s shirt material, and turn him right around in order for their lips to latch onto each other.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Harry actually even <em>trips </em>into it just a tad bit, the faint hum of reaction vibrated into Louis’ mouth, but his lips still opening and gently participating nonetheless.There isn’t a trace of hesitancy between either of them, as though they’d been waiting to do this—their <em>lips</em> had been waiting to this, and it’s showing in the eager, yet tender folding of one mouth over another, Louis’ hand now bunched in his jacket near his chest, and Harry having brought up a careful hand to caress the side of Louis’ face.The feeling of it comes with a wave of familiarity like Louis’ never known before.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Their lips are pulling apart after one last eager latch that neither of them want to let go off, Louis’ fingers gripping with tension at his jacket, and their foreheads pressing into each other with heat once their mouths are finally detaching.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” is all Harry’s breathing, and even though he isn’t even really replying to anything, Louis somehow understands as he shares the close, heated energy with Harry, his own grin already growing again once his eyes open.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">“Okay,” Louis replies, nodding faintly and admiring Harry’s dazzling eyes as much as he can up close like this.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">Because they’re both agreeing to try again.Agreeing to a new <em>start</em>.</span>
</p><p class="p1">
  <span class="s1">And once Louis’ hand is sliding down from the boy’s chest, and instead finding Harry's palm in order to get their fingers laced together before they start on their walk, Louis couldn’t feel more ready.</span>
</p><p class="p1"> </p><p class="p1"> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>dear anyone who's read this, thank you so much! :)))</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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